Resolutions
by Laura Picken
Summary: Continues the "Four Winds" series. When a ghost starts haunting the cast of an opera, Beckett gets help from one of the ghosts in her past to save the show. Definitely Caskett, with some Esplanie to keep the continuity going. But the focus will be primarily on Beckett.
1. Chapter 1

Four Winds: Resolutions  
A Castle Fantasy AU  
By Laura Picken

This story is in the continuing series of Castle fan fiction based on my fantasy alternate universe story "Four Winds". If you want to read the story, click on my author page, otherwise, here's a quick summary: Castle, Beckett, Lanie, Esposito and Ryan are struck by ball lighting in the loft on a dark and stormy poker night and wind up with superpowers: Ryan's a powerful telepath, Esposito can get your entire life story by shaking your hand, Beckett has five super-heightened senses and can speak to the dead, Lanie can heal the living by touch, and Castle's a wizard. There's other scattered abilities here and there, but that's the basic gist of it. Not freaked out by the concept yet? Then read on and enjoy :-).

For very loose timeline purposes, Castle fans can place this somewhere in the post-"Always" future: Castle and Beckett are a firmly established couple, Beckett's back on the force and Ryan has fought his way out of the doghouse. Season five might make it into the canon of this series if I'm still writing it in September, but right now I make no promises.

DISCLAIMER: Castle, Beckett, et al. are property of Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC. The legends described herein are inventions of my own twisted imagination and should not be taken to reflect the traditions of any particular group. All non-English language phrases are courtesy of Google Translate, so please forgive me if I get anything unintentionally wrong.

Okay, enough business, let the adventure begin!

* * *

Thomas Engebretsen was lost. And he knew it.

Not that he was about to admit it, mind you. This was the career opportunity he had been hoping and praying for for *years*. He was finally hitting the absolute pinnacle of his career: singing at the biggest, most important opera house in the United States. So what if he was expected to learn how to navigate the giant on-stage scenery 'machine' two days before dress rehearsal? Thomas knew the role inside and out. He had been singing it in Germany for *years*. He could do this, no problem. He was ready. And if the price for getting to what was going to be the pinnacle of his career was to spend a couple of days lost in the bowels of Lincoln Center, then so be it.

Not that he *wanted* to be stuck in Lincoln Center for days. Thomas held onto his cell phone like a compass, hoping desperately to find a spot, any spot, where he might get even a bar of reception in this maze of white-painted concrete.

The florescent lights over Thomas' head flickered on and off as he walked, causing the singer to let out a string of uniquely German curses. _Great, _he thought, _not only am I lost, I'm about to be lost in the *dark*._

A soprano's lofty high notes echoed down the corridor. Thomas stopped his wanderings, trying to pinpoint the sound. He followed the lilting music like a beacon, focusing on nothing but getting to the source of that music...which should, hopefully, be connected to a person who could at the very least tell him how to get the hell out of there. _And maybe if I'm lucky, _thought Thomas, _that person will be a very pretty blond who will walk out with me to get a drink...at her place..._

The singing seemed to be coming from the main stage. _Maybe it's one of those sweet little Rheinmaidens, _thought Thomas. He walked into the backstage area to find...nothing. No stage hands, no singers...not even a security guard. Nothing.

_Wait..._The singing began again, coming from further inside the house. Thomas carefully walked through the backstage obstacle course until he finally got to the point where he could see the entire house and the deep orchestra pit. The sound of a metal door clanging shut caused him to jump and turn to see what was behind him, gasping for breath. He called out, listening to see if the response came from the same direction as the singing. "HEY!"

Silence again. Apparently whoever it was didn't like to be interrupted. "Hey!" Thomas called out, "You're the first voice I've heard around here in hours. You sing beautifully, by the way..." _No response. _"Do you know how to get out of here?" asked Thomas, "because I'd really like to..."

The singing started up again, but a accompanying sound nearly caused Thomas to jump out of his skin. His heart rate had no chance to return to normal...his feet were finding it impossible to settle on the now-shaky ground. The machine was starting up around him, lifting him higher and higher in the air.

Thomas tried to laugh it off, but the laughter felt forced and tinged with panic. "V-v-very funny, guys," he called out. "An initiation prank for the new guy, eh? Well, you got your laughs, you can let me down now..."

The blinding brightness of all the stage lights coming on at once stopped Thomas' babbling and further unsteadied him. He staggered back from the light, then was forced to head toward it as the planks tilted with his weight. "Guys! HEY!" he yelled out. "This isn't funny anymore!"

Planks started to buck like the horses of the Valkyries. Thomas stumbled, blinded, around the stage, getting tossed about like a glass bottle in a hurricane. His foot slipped and he screamed, knowing the gap to the floor down below was easily large enough to kill him...

Two planks closed around him like a vise, his legs caught in the fishing net that got tangled in the parts of the machine. Silence settled back into the air for just a moment as the unsteady planks stopped moving, then the grinding of gears started up again as the machine started to level itself around him. There was no tinge of panic now; Thomas was full-blown terrified. "HELP! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! HELP ME!"

The blinding lights around Thomas subsided just enough to get his bearings: center stage, trapped ten feet above, with the planks arranged in a hill so he could easily get back to the floor...if someone would just let him out. Thomas continued to scream and flail about, hoping his movements would be strong enough to dislodge himself from his position.

The singing started up again in earnest. Thomas froze, assuming that the singer was manipulating the scene from the control desk. "P-p-p-please," he stammered out, now desperate enough to beg, "please just let me go..."

When no response came to him but singing, Thomas got angry. "Who are you? What the hell did I do to you, huh? Are you one of my ex-wives? You must be, those..." The bitter curse died on his lips as the sound of metal scraping wood caught his ear. The singing got louder, but the scraping noise got louder in response, making a visible scratch in the otherwise pristine floor. Thomas found himself unable to hold his tongue. "You know," he laughed nervously, "they're probably going to take that scratch out of your pay..."

The source of the scratching became visible as the scratching itself stopped. It was a spear. Not the lightweight foam things they use in the production, but a *real* spear. With a metal point. A very *sharp* metal point. The spear was floating just below him, being held by no human hand. Thomas was now sweating and shaking violently as fear took over his every thought, silencing them. His eyes were transfixed on the spear as it floated up the hill of planks, rising high above his head, then tilted, point side down, directly at him...before hurtling down toward his wailing throat.

High above the onstage drama, a sirin watched; its lilting, yet mournful song echoing across the cavernous theater. Satisfied that her mistresses' work was done, the bird flapped its wings as it perfectly balanced the crown on its head. She then dove down from the top balcony, flew over the body of Thomas Engebretsen, soared kamikaze-style into the back wall of the stage...

And vanished.

* * *

The clang of swords crossing each other echoed across the large, nearly-empty training facility. The cavernous warehouse space was almost always nearly empty, having been designed as working, training and relaxation space for just six people. Even with that group of six now expanded to just under a dozen, the warehouse was still likely to make any sound echo for an extended period of time.

Which was how Kate Beckett was starting to develop one monster of a migraine. It wasn't just the clanging of metal on metal; since she was doing a fair bit of clanging herself, the sound was easy to filter out. What was *really* bothering her were the two men in the room with her.

And their non-stop running swordplay commentary. *While* they were fighting.

"You are a master of the Agrippa, my friend!" yelled Ryan in a terrible derivation of some sort a European accent, maybe French.

"Thank you," replied Esposito loudly, faking a terrible British accent. "I've worked very hard to become so."

"I believe I know something you don' know..."

"Really?" 'asked' Esposito. "What is that?"

"*I* am not left handed!" replied Ryan, deftly switching his sword from his left hand to his right, continuing the fight without missing a beat.

Beckett dropped her sword with a loud clang and a weary sigh. "Will you two *knock it off*!" she yelled.

The two men stopped their sword play, turning to their irritated boss in confusion. Ryan asked, "What? Is our commentary bothering you? We could rhyme if you like..."

Esposito picked up on the joke quickly. "Or I'll go ride a bike," he added, earning a high five from his partner. When the line failed to register, Ryan and Esposito frowned at their boss in confusion. "What? Don't tell me you've never seen 'The Princess Bride'?" asked Esposito.

When the name of the movie failed to register as well, the two men's jaws hit the floor nearly simultaneously. "Oh my God," exclaimed Ryan, "you've *never* seen it? Javi, she's never seen it..."

"Whoa," Esposito agreed with equal surprise. "I thought seeing that movie was some sort of girly right of passage, like mom driving you on your first date or something..."

"How have *you two* seen it?" asked Alexis with a wide smile. "Clearly you've both seen it more than once."

Ryan and Esposito had the exact same answer to that question, and they both replied at the same time.

"Sisters."

Satisfied with their answer, Alexis turned back her sword play partner with great concern. "Kate? You don't seem like yourself today..."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," grumbled Esposito.

"Everything ok?" asked Alexis.

Beckett let out another long sigh as she settled herself on the training mat. "I don't know what it is I just...I just haven't been feeling that great the past couple of days."

Esposito grabbed water bottles for everyone and handed one to each of the women. "Have you had Lanie check you out?"

"No," Beckett said, shaking her head, "physically, I'm fine, I'm just...off. Like something's missing and I can't put my finger on it."

"I think I might have an idea of what it is," Alexis suggested. "Dad's out of town, right?"

Beckett nodded. "He had to go do some promotional appearances for 'Frozen Heat' in London. Why?"

"That's the furthest you two have been apart since all of this happened, isn't it?"

Beckett nodded again, not liking where this was headed. "You really think this might be from missing your father?"

"Yeah," replied Alexis, "but not on the level you're thinking." She turned quickly to Esposito and asked him, "Javier, where do you think Lanie is, right now? Don't think about it, just answer the question."

"Heading to a crime scene call," Esposito replied quickly. "They found a body on one of the stages at Lincoln..." His voice trailed off as the implications of what he had just said were hitting *him*. "Whoa..." he exclaimed.

Alexis nodded, easily picking up on Esposito's train of thought. "You know how parents who've lost a child say they 'just knew' the minute their child died, or one spouse would say that about another when they've been married a long time?" When three heads nodded, Alexis continued, "I think you guys are connected on a much deeper level than you realize. *Especially* between you and Lanie, Javier, or between you and my dad, Kate. So when one of you is missing..."

Beckett tried to put words to how she had been feeling. "It becomes like when you sprain your ankle. You *think* everything's fine until you do something that would otherwise be okay and it just feels all *wrong*." Alexis nodded in agreement.

Four cell phones went off simultaneously: Alexis received a text while the three detectives got calls from dispatch. An amazed look passed between the four members of the group as they realized where they were going...and who had been the one to inform them about it *first*. As the three detectives closed their phones, Beckett asked, "So am I going to feel like this *every* time your dad goes out of town?"

"I have a feeling it's just hitting you harder because it's the first time," Alexis replied. "Now that you have a better idea of what you're dealing with, it'll get easier."

For the first time that day, Beckett allowed herself to smile as she embraced her boyfriend's daughter. "C'mon," she told Alexis, "I'll give you a ride to the scene. That was Lanie, right?"

Alexis nodded. "She said that since dad was out of town, the responsibility of the weird crime scene should fall from big Castle to little Castle, whatever that means."

Beckett's smile grew even bigger. "It means your dad will *really* miss not being here for whatever we're about to see. Let's go."

* * *

**A/N I'm baaaack! I actually got kinda twitchy (like Kate) when I didn't have an active story going. So make sure you leave lots of comments, 'cause if I abandon this story I'll *really* start getting twitchy...  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Lanie Parish watched her fiancé and his two partners enter the theater. Esposito couldn't help but smile back at the woman he loved. "You glad to see me, chica?"

"Absolutely," Lanie purred back. Her tone turned serious in a heartbeat. "Because now you guys can get *him* as far away from *me* as possible..."

While Ryan recognized Lanie's annoying 'shadow' immediately, Esposito had no clue who he was. _And the idea that some balding bureaucrat could just poke his head into *my girl's* business whenever he wants..._Esposito tamped down his growing anger and forced himself to be *all* business. "And you are...?"

"Douglas Vanderkellen," the older gentleman replied, "the general manager for this Opera House." Vanderkellen's eyes followed Lanie as she walked back to the reason why they were all there in the first place. He then turned away dramatically, shaking his head. "Tragic story, simply tragic..."

"This is an opera house," Esposito tried to joke, "aren't the stories *supposed* to be tragic?"

The joke fell flat, showing Ryan that he was going to have to take the lead in this interview. Getting a cursory look at the body for himself, Ryan's eyes widened as he realized exactly *who* the deceased man was. "Mr. Vanderkellen, is that..."

The manager answered Ryan's question, choking off a sob. "Yes, I'm afraid that is, indeed, Thomas Engebretsen..."

"Wow," exclaimed Ryan, shaking his head as he wrote down the victim's name in his notes. "Wasn't he about to make his debut here?"

Vanderkellen nodded. "Our original Wotan, James Hightower, tragically passed away a week ago. We were lucky to get Engebretsen to come in and take over for him. But now..."

Ryan informed his partner, "Wagnerian singers are considered something of a rare breed, even in the world of opera. There are often less than a dozen singers in the world capable of singing one of these roles." Turning his attention back to Vanderkellen, Ryan commented, "To lose two of these men within a week of each other must be a terrible blow to the company."

"Yes," said Vanderkellen, "singers are very superstitious, after all. At least we have one more cover for the role, and he better be ready to go on tomorrow..." The manager's voice trailed off as his thoughts quickly got lost in the monumental size of his to-do list.

Ryan and Esposito shared a knowing look between them. _Potential suspect? _asked Esposito through the mind-link.

_Unless he tells us otherwise, _replied Ryan. Out loud, Ryan asked, "What is the last cover's name, Mr. Vanderkellen?"

Vanderkellen's face went ashen as he contemplated why the police would be asking that question. "You don't think he could have possibly...?"

"We need to talk to him to be sure, sir," replied Esposito. "Name, please?"

"Jacob Bradford," replied Vanderkellen. "My office will have his contact information."

"Thank you," said Ryan. He briefly recalled a memory of an overheard conversation. "You have had many critics of the way things have been run since you've been here, am I correct, sir?"

Vanderkellen's gaze grew more stern as the conversation turned more personal. "Your point, detective?"

"Have you made any enemies since you started your tenure, Mr. Vanderkellen?" Ryan asked matter-of-factly.

"One does not end *up* in my position without having made a few enemies, detective," Vanderkellen replied in a snide, derisive tone.

"Have you made any of your enemies angry enough to *kill*, Mr. Vanderkellen?" Ryan countered quickly. "Perhaps a board member you've crossed swords with, or a Wagnerite who's particularly incensed about your plans for the Ring cycle..."

Both suggestions seemed to strike a nerve with the nervous general manager. Paling visibly as he finished the interview, Vanderkellen stammered out, "Talk...talk to my assistant. She'll give you any other information you require. Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me..."

Ryan and Esposito both visibly relaxed as the older man practically ran away from the crime scene. "And I thought Gates was a hard boss to work for," commented Esposito. "That guy would put *me* in therapy."

* * *

Beckett watched the boys lead Vanderkellen off to be interviewed, not envying them in the slightest. She then focused her attention on her best friend and reason they were there. Beckett climbed the machine-made hill to talk to the medical examiner. "What do you got for me, Lanie?"

"Well," Lanie began, "I'd say we've got a pretty good head start as to the cause of death.

Beckett knelt down to study the face of their victim, frozen in a death-mask of terror. Between the victim's head and shoulders, the detective couldn't help but agree with Lanie's assessment. "Probably that spear through the neck that got him, huh?"

"Ya think?" Lanie teased.

"You were right about one thing," Beckett thought out loud as she examined the surrounding area, "Castle would have *loved* this..."

Lanie couldn't help but notice her friend's melancholy demeanor. "So when's he coming back from London?"

A ghost of a smile flashed across Beckett's face. "Tomorrow night."

"So we'll see you guys sometime next week, then?" Lanie teased. Getting the desired longer-lasting smile out of her best friend, the ME got down to business. "The more interesting problem seems to be how someone could possibly set up this little tableau. From the way the spear impacted with our friend's throat our killer would have had to have been somewhere along the lines of 7 foot 5."

Beckett was surprised by the number her friend just quoted. "Could the killer have raised his side of the platform so that he appeared that height when he attacked?"

"It's possible," Lanie replied. "Our killer seemed to have been pretty determined to immobilize the vic before he struck, which would have given him time to make any adjustments. I'm not familiar with how these planks move, though, so I wouldn't know."

The detective made her way down the 'hill' to the stage level. When Beckett looked around to take in the new perspective, she couldn't help but notice the deep scratch in the stage floor. "Looks like our killer couldn't handle the weight of the spear."

Alexis overheard Beckett thinking out loud. "But then how did he get the stage up the 'hill' without scratching the planks of the machine?"

Beckett didn't have an answer for the question. A voice whispered faintly in the back of her mind, _look at the spear's aura..._

_The *spear's* aura? _Beckett recoiled at her own train of thought. _The spear wouldn't have an aura...still, would it hurt to check..._She climbed back up on the machine, approaching the body just as Lanie was finishing up her examination. Beckett focused on the air around the spear, looking for any breaks, any waves of energy...

It was as if the world suddenly flashed into a paler, duller version of itself. Beckett stepped back and stared at the glowing handprints she knew only she could see. Stepping back a little further, she looked around the room, only having a faint idea of what she was looking for. The scrape made by the spear was also faintly glowing. Beckett scanned the room carefully in a counter-clockwise direction. _There, _she thought, _in the catwalks above the stage...and there it is again on the back wall..._

"WHOA!" Lanie yelled out, narrowly catching up to Beckett in time to keep the detective from losing her balance on the unstable machine. "Easy there, girl!" she exclaimed, her voice clearly showing concern for her friend. "You almost took a two-story nose dive there, honey. What's going on?"

Beckett shook her head several times, trying both to bring her focus back on the real, visible world and to *explain* what exactly she had seen. Lanie watched as her friend had trouble coming up even with a place to begin. "You weren't looking at 'normal' forensic evidence, were you?"

"Not even close," replied Beckett, shaking her head. "Listen, promise me you'll run *every* test you can think of on that spear. There's something on that spear..."

Lanie nodded, mentally congratulating herself for thinking to make the extra call when she heard about this crime scene. _At least with her here we don't have to work around the weird side..._the ME called for her intern, who was standing at the bottom of the 'hill'. "Alexis!"

Alexis looked up from her clipboard at her mentor's call. "Yeah, Lanie, what's up?"

"Whatever Beckett tells you to do, can you make sure it gets done?"

Alexis nodded. "Sure, no problem."

"Thanks, Lanie," Beckett said as she started to descend the hill. "You'll let me know what you find on that spear?"

"No problem," replied Lanie. "As long as you make sure to bring my intern back in one piece..."

* * *

"The stagehands are setting up a scissor crane for us now," Beckett told Alexis, "should only be a minute or so."

"Okay," said Alexis. "So what are we doing?"

Beckett looked past the girl to the back wall of the theater. "To be honest, Lex," she replied, "I'm not really sure *what* it is."

Alexis followed Beckett's line of sight to the high spot where they were headed. "Can I assume that whatever this is is something that someone else might not have seen?" When Beckett nodded, Alexis asked, "Can I ask *how* you saw it?"

As they boarded the scissor crane with the stagehand who was going to work the controls, Beckett quietly replied, "I looked at 'air around' the spear."

Even though Alexis understood what Beckett was talking about, she was still surprised by the detective's answer. "Why?"

"Had a hunch," Beckett shrugged. "Anyway, when I did that I saw some sort of weird, glowing residue on the spear in a form that looked like handprints. So I looked around the rest of the theater and I saw the same residue in a few other places. One of them being...right here." Beckett turned her attention to the stagehand controlling the crane. "Can you move us down about six inches?" She thanked the man after he complied with her request.

Alexis turned her attention to the wall that was now right in front of them. "So this is the spot?"

Beckett nodded, focusing on the 'aura' she had seen earlier. "Can you take some scrapings from the wall at around the height of your shoulder?"

Alexis nodded and did as the detective asked. The material that came back on the edge of her knife was a dried-out thick goo. "Eeewww," Alexis commented as she wiped the knife against the edge of her specimen jar. "Is that what you saw, Kate?"

Beckett confirmed that the scrapings had the energy that she had seen earlier. The jar glowed between her fingers. "Yeah. So what the hell is it?"

* * *

Ryan, Esposito and Lanie were waiting for Beckett and Alexis when they came down from the scissor crane. "Well, we're not going to be at a loss for suspects on this one," Ryan announced to the group. "Our vic's name was Thomas Engebretsen. He came in to take over the starring role in the current show after the original star died 'tragically' last week, according to our jumpy general manager."

"I heard about that," Beckett chimed in. "Didn't he drown in the fountain outside?"

Lanie nodded. "His blood alcohol level was .25, and a couple of bottles of cheap whiskey were found at the scene. Perlmutter ruled it an accident."

"Can you get us the records anyway?" asked Beckett. "Under the circumstances it might be good to compare the two cases. See if there are any similarities." Lanie nodded her agreement.

Ryan continued, "There's only one guy left in town who can sing the role. Name's Jacob Bradford, the second cover."

"Second cover?" asked Beckett.

"Kinda like the backup to the backup quarterback. These are guys who usually don't have a lot of experience and are there to get the role on their resume," replied Ryan.

Beckett understood the younger man's suspicions. "But you think the guy might have decided that he was better than second cover and offed the people standing in his way?"

Ryan nodded. "But he's not our only option. Our nosy GM hasn't exactly been popular with his Board of Directors. Some have even accused him of deliberately trying to run the company into the ground."

"So why would the board of directors take his incompetence so personally?" asked Esposito.

"The productions here are funded almost entirely through private donations," replied Ryan. "The board of directors are usually made up of the donors or close friends of the donors. They may not be looking for a return on their investment, but if they're not happy with where their money went..."

"Still," countered Beckett, "I can't imagine somebody with that much money wanting to go after the 'singers' over the production, good, bad or otherwise. Who else?"

Ryan had one more possible group of suspects. "When I mentioned the possibility of a deranged Wagnerite, Vanderkellen lost it. Practically ran out of the theater. I think he might have gotten some threats, but he didn't stick around long enough to verify that."

Esposito frowned in confusion as the unfamiliar term. "I remember when you mentioned that word to him. Who are Wagnerites?"

"Fans of the operas of Richard Wagner are probably the most die-hard, devoted, passionate fans in the opera world...kinda like Trekkies. If one of them decided he didn't like this production and went off the deep end over it..."

"People have killed for a lot less," agreed Beckett. "Although I doubt any sort of deranged fan could explain this stuff."

Alexis passed the specimen jar around for the team to examine. "What is that?" asked Lanie. "Where did you get it?"

"We scraped it off the back wall of the theater," replied Alexis.

"I think you'll find it's a chemical match to...*something* on the spear," added Beckett.

A familiar voice chimed into the conversation. "It's ectoplasm. The residue that can get left behind when a powerful ghost starts messing around in the events of the real world."

Beckett gasped as she recognized who was talking to her. She turned to Ryan, praying for his verification...

She got her wish immediately. _The link's almost always on when we're on duty nowadays, _Ryan projected into her mind. _I heard him, too._

Beckett's eyes shone with gratefulness even as she squeezed Lanie's hand for support...

...before turning to look into the eyes of the ghost of her old training partner.

"Hey, kid."

* * *

**Hi all! Clearly I'm not abandoning this story any time soon. :D I want to thank everyone for their wonderful, heartwarming comments, but TheTruthBetween was right. I couldn't abandon this series if I wanted to. For one thing, I've already come up with ideas three stories ahead. That's right, I said *three* stories. Some of you already know this, but after this series 'formally' finishes with _Ascension _two stories from now, I'm going to jump from fanfiction to completely original fiction. My plan is to write a full-on, totally epic, totally *original*, novel length (250,000 words+) prequel story of Katya's turning and century (or so) with the Guardian predecessors in Tibet. It will *not* be posted here because the Castle characters won't have been born for another 400 years or so. When the series ends I'll post the link to a FictionPress account where the adventure will continue. :D  
**

**Until then, if you don't have the foggiest clue who Katya is you should look for _Moonrise Kingdom _on my author page. Likewise, if you want to know what little there is to know about the predecessors, you should look up _Guardians of Shangri La _on my author page.  
**

**And please, don't forget to post your comments below! I can't wait to hear from you!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Beckett suddenly found herself at a loss for words. The last time she had seen a living Mike Royce, she was arresting him, effectively ending the retired cop's second career as a bounty hunter and sending him hurtling toward the events that would eventually lead to his death. _What do you *say* to someone in a situation like this? _thought Beckett.

_I believe you start with *hello*, _Lanie replied through the mind-link.

Royce couldn't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness of his former partner. He had long ago made peace with the last things that had happened between them. Of course, *Beckett* didn't know that yet..."S'okay, kid. You don't have to say anything yet. Besides, you always seem to forget that us spooks communicate mind-to-mind, so technically, you don't have to say anything at *all*..."

Beckett relaxed into her own smile, falling easily into the rapport that they had established all those years earlier. _It's good to see you, Mike._

"You too, kid," Royce agreed. "Or should I be calling you 'honored one', now?" Beckett blushed slightly when her old partner addressed her with her Guardian title. It was a reaction Royce couldn't help but notice. "Honored one it is, then," he teased with an affectionate wink.

_What are you doing here? _asked Beckett.

Mike scanned the room, quickly counting up how many non-Guardians were working the crime scene. "Not here," he told Beckett. "Too many 'others' still hanging around. Wouldn't want to get you a reputation for being a crazy woman now, would I?"

* * *

An hour later, everything at the crime scene was wrapped up. Esposito closed the door to the conference room back at the 12th precinct, effectively giving the team some privacy for their much-needed conversation.

"Okay Mike," Beckett began, "I'm pretty sure that it wasn't a coincidence for you to show up at this particular crime scene. So what's going on?"

Mike rubbed his hands together, drawing in a deep 'breath' and letting it out slowly to focus his thoughts. He then locked eyes with his old partner. "I need help, Kate. From the Guardians." Royce strolled over to the window of the conference room, looking out the window as he continued to try to gather his thoughts. Finally, he told his story. "After I moved to LA, I met this girl named Stephanie Frederikson. Opera singer, *amazing* voice. She came and asked for my help. She said she was being 'haunted', and that strange things were starting to happen around her: objects moving by themselves, stuff like that."

"What did you do?" asked Beckett.

"Nothing," Royce shrugged sadly. "I offered to get her professional help, but I basically thought she was off her rocker."

Ryan's focus had changed the minute Royce gave them the name from his old case. "Stephanie Frederickson...why does that name sound familiar?" A brief moment passed before his own memory came up with the answer. "She's in this production, isn't she?"

Royce nodded. "Problem is, once I died, I got a hard lesson in how wrong I was about her. Stephanie *is* being haunted."

"By you," commented Esposito.

Royce shook his head. "I'm just a spirit. I'm here until I get what I need to get done, done, and then I can move on. I'm not the one haunting Steph."

"What *is* haunting her, then?" asked Ryan.

Royce rubbed his face, trying to stall for time. It was pretty clear that he did *not* want to talk in great detail. "Did you ever see the movie 'Beetlejuice'?" As all the heads around the table nodded, Royce continued, "You know how if you said the guy's name three times he would appear and do everything he could to drive you nuts? Sometimes I feel that way about...her, it, whatever..."

It wasn't long before Royce realized that the detectives in front of him weren't going to take that response as an answer. "She's old, of that much I'm sure. It's been a *long* time since she looked normal. Long white hair done up like she lived in the 1800s. Hollow, sunken holes where her eyes should be. Stick-skinny and hunched over so that she looks a lot smaller than she should. Plus, she's got this...thing that serves her..."

"What does the creature look like?" asked Ryan.

"The head's human-looking, but the body's more like an owl," Royce replied.

Beckett thought over the places where she saw the ectoplasm at the crime scene. "The impression I saw on the wall might have looked like an owl in flight," she thought out loud. "But you said this creature *serves* her..."

"I'm not really sure who's at who's beck and call, to be honest," insisted Royce, clearly agitated by his memories of the creature. "But they're never away from each other for very long. It's not a pet, though, *that* much I'm sure about. It has its own devious little mind and whispers to her constantly."

"Has it killed around Stephanie before?" asked Beckett.

Royce shook his head. "No, see that's the thing. Up until now it's only *spooked* Steph, like it was trying to scare her off or something. It's just been since she got this gig at Lincoln Center that it's started killing people. But now that it's figured out *how* to kill people, I'm pretty sure it's not gonna stop."

"Okay," said Beckett, "Ryan, you and Esposito should probably follow up on your interview with Vanderkellen. There's got to be a reason why things have escalated since Stephanie got this job. Mike and I will go talk to Stephanie. I want to get her perspective on this whole thing..."

* * *

Ryan and Esposito walked through the corridors surrounding the opera house, trusting Esposito's memory of their conversation with the receptionist to navigate the maze of offices. "How much further is it to Vanderkellen's office, Javi?" asked Ryan.

"Not much further," Esposito replied. After a quiet moment passed between the two men as they walked, Esposito spoke up again. "Ryan, I got a question."

"Shoot."

"How the hell do you know so much about opera?"

A half-smile crossed Ryan's face, just for a moment. "Katya. She used to get tickets for us all the time. There was this one time, after we saw 'Carmen'..."

Esposito cut off the story quickly. "Whoa! Bro, I've been repressing the memories of your sex life for a *reason*..."

Ryan's smile grew full-blown and teasing. "Shame. Katya had this thing that she could do with her legs..."

"Ugh, Ryan!" Esposito raised his hands as if to ward off his partner's words with them. "I said I didn't want to know, okay?"

Ryan chuckled as he opened the door to the office, letting his partner take the lead. Esposito walked through the door and approached the assistant's desk at his partner's side. The slight but attractive young man looked up from the computer he was typing on. He was practically radiating annoyance at the disturbance to his day. "May I *help* you?"

"Detectives Esposito and Ryan, NYPD," Esposito introduced himself and his partner. "We were told you could get us the contact information for Jacob Bradford..."

The assistant rolled his eyes. "One *second*," he exclaimed with an overly exaggerated sigh. He called up the requested information on his computer, printing it and handing it over to Esposito without looking up or saying anything more to them.

Ryan studied the assistant carefully, knowing that they weren't going to get any information out of the man without a little creative talking. The Guardian reached into the mind of the man in front of him and quickly discovered what language the assistant spoke better than any other. Gossip. Ryan sat on the edge of the desk and leaned over to engage the assistant in a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you have any idea why we asked you for Jacob Bradford's phone number?"

"Yes, yes," the assistant replied with a bored sigh. "You're investigating the death of our jump-in Wotan."

"But," countered Ryan, "did you know that we're *also* looking into James Hightower's death?"

This perked up the assistant's ears immediately. "Really?" he asked, lowering his voice to match Ryan's, "I thought Hightower just got plastered and passed out face-down in the fountain..."

"You don't think there could be a connection, though?" asked Ryan. "I mean losing two Wotans so close together couldn't be a coincidence now, could it?"

The assistant craned his neck to look around Ryan, checking, apparently, to see if anyone else could possibly overhear the information he was about to divulge. He then went to a drawer in his desk and pulled out a thick Manila file. "Well, I'm *sure* you've noticed how our venerable leader isn't the most likeable of individuals?" At Ryan's nod, the assistant pushed the file across the desk. "Now, you didn't get this from me, but...these are the death threats my 'boss' has gotten since he took office. I mean, c'mon, who sends death threats to an opera house, right?"

Ryan flipped through the contents of the folder. Every letter was kept, easily readable, stapled to the envelope it came in. "You've been very organized with this," he complimented the assistant.

"I wanted to make sure I knew where to send the thank you card," the assistant responded with a smirk. He then pulled back the file, flipping through the pages until he found a letter that he seemed to find particularly memorable. "Thing is," the assistant commented, "most of these letters just wanted to go after *Vanderkellen's* head."

"Who wouldn't?" Ryan replied with an agreeing smile.

"But *this* one," the assistant continued without missing a beat, handing the letter to Ryan. "This one seemed particularly creepy even for a death threat."

Ryan skimmed briefly through the letter, impressed by the number of little details the writer seemed to know about Vanderkellen's life. "Is the stuff in here accurate?" asked Ryan.

The assistant nodded. "As far as I know. Including stuff my boss has never talked about in the press.

Esposito took a look at the note his partner was reading. _Stalker?_

_Possibly, _replied Ryan. Out loud, he asked the assistant, "Mind if we hold on to these?"

"Go ahead," the assistant replied, "as long as I can get credit for helping in the investigation. Name's Martin VanVinderschlock."

Ryan had to keep the expression on his face carefully steady as he took out a notebook and pen and dutifully wrote down the assistant's name, taking time to spell out every last letter correctly. It was only after the two detectives thanked Mr. VanVinderschlock for his time and were long away from the offices that Ryan allowed himself to speak. "Man, no wonder it took so long for him to tell us his name..."

"Yeah, you ain't kidding," agreed Esposito. "With a last name like that I probably wouldn't want to bring it up too much either. You think that letter's a solid lead?"

Ryan nodded. "The other letters seemed like standard hate mail, wanting to see Vanderkellen die in some painful way. The letter Martin gave us, though, was the only one that mentioned dismantling Vanderkellen's 'precious Ring' before killing him. And the easiest way to sabotage a production of the Ring cycle would be to start killing off the Wotans."

* * *

Beckett watched the crowds of young women going in and out of Cafe Luxembourg, carefully scanning them for anyone who could match Royce's general description of Stephanie Frederickson. Not that his description had given Beckett much to go on. "For chrissake, Mike, you've been haunting her for a year now, couldn't you give me a better description than a 5'9" skinny brunette?"

"She's not the *only* person I've been watching," Mike countered quickly. "Besides, time moves differently on the other side. For me it's only been a couple of weeks since Ganz...thank you for that, by the way."

Beckett shifted her weight between her feet, uncomfortable enough with the topic that she refused to look Royce in the eye over it. "Yeah, well, you would've done the same for me."

"True," agreed Royce with a smile. All thoughts focused back on the case, though, as Stephanie Frederickson left the cafe and headed toward the opera house. "There she is," declared Royce, "that's her."

Beckett flipped back into detective mode instantly. She crossed the street and quickly caught up with the woman, calling her name as she went. "Ms. Frederickson!"

The tall brunette turned around with her small contingent of cast-mates. "Yes?"

Beckett flashed her badge immediately. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. I need to ask you some questions."

Stephanie tugged on her heavy backpack as she said goodbye to her friends, trying to adjust her weight to get comfortable as she felt the situation get more and more uncomfortable. "About what, detective?"

"Thomas Engebretsen was found dead last night on the stage of the opera house," Beckett replied matter-of-factly to gauge her reaction.

It was not a guilty woman's reaction. Stephanie paled visibly, swaying unsteadily on her feet from the shock. She slowly staggered over to a nearby bench and lowered herself down to sit on it. "My god..." she exclaimed in a quiet gasp, "is Jake okay?"

"Jake?"

"Jake Bradford. He is...was...our Wotan cover. They got that Swedish pig after Hightower died, but now that he's dead too...god, Jake's all we've got left. And dress is *tomorrow*..."

"I take it you weren't a fan of Engebretsen, Ms. Frederickson?" asked Beckett.

Stephanie waived off the comment. "Eh, Engebretsen was all right, I guess. Great voice, but a little crass and a little too diva-y for my tastes. Plus he had a tendency to want to hit on anything with breasts."

Beckett's eyes widened as she listened to Stephanie's casual description of Engebretsen's sexist behavior. "Did he make any enemies in the cast?"

Stephanie shook her head before taking a drink from her water bottle. "He wasn't around long enough. He got called in less than a week ago."

Beckett nodded, understanding Stephanie's point. _Still, I have to ask..._"Stephanie, where were you last night between 10 and midnight?"

Royce answered the question in near-unison with Stephanie, "I went bowling at Leisure Time with some friends last night and got home around 11:30."

Beckett nodded and took down her alibi to confirm it later. "There's one more thing," the detective added with a quiet hesitation, "I...I was a friend of Michael Royce."

Stephanie's walls went up almost immediately. "And?"

"He told me about you," Beckett replied, sitting down on the bench next to her. "One of his biggest regrets in his life was that he couldn't help you out with your...problem."

Stephanie jumped up from the bench, heading immediately for the theater. "*My* problem..." she muttered under her breath, "Mike Royce didn't give a rat's ass about my *problem*..."

Beckett caught up to the younger woman quickly. "I think you'll find I'm a little more...open-minded than Mike was when you met him."

Stephanie stared Beckett down with a an attitude that spoke of years of frustration. "An open-minded cop? Really?"

"Try me," replied Beckett.

"All right," Stephanie agreed reluctantly. She sat back down on the bench, resting her backpack between her legs on the ground as she began her story. "My freshman year in college, as I was walking home from my first performance...I saw a ghost."

Beckett nodded, gently urging Stephanie to continue. "Did the ghost speak to you?"

"No," replied Stephanie, shaking her head. "The ghost doesn't speak to me. At least, the woman doesn't."

"You've seen more ghosts than that?"

Stephanie nodded, cautiously judging Beckett's reaction. "Just one. A bird."

Beckett looked Stephanie square in the eye, knowing this was her opportunity to gain the younger woman's trust. "But it was only half a bird, wasn't it? It had a woman's head, didn't it?"

Stephanie's face paled as her eyes widened with fear and amazement at Beckett's questions. "Yeah," she replied, "how did you know?"

"I have my sources," Beckett replied. "The bird's the one that talked to you?"

"Yeah," replied Stephanie. "Whenever I needed to figure out what the next step in my career would be, that crazy bird had the right answer. Every time."

"That's not all, though, is it?" asked Beckett. "If all the ghosts did was give you good career advice, then you wouldn't have gone to Mike..."

Stephanie quietly shook her head. "You're right," she agreed, guilt practically radiating from her demeanor. "I've seen things. Things I can't explain...people got hurt. Because of me."

Beckett was starting to catch on. Quietly, she asked, "The bird didn't just give you career advice, did it?"

"No," replied Stephanie, shaking her head sadly. "Every time I got a cover...something would happen to the singer who got the role, and I would have to go on in their place."

Royce let loose with a string of curses, guiltily berating himself for every woman who got hurt because he didn't believe Stephanie the first time. "God, Steph, I'm so sorry..."

Beckett ignored her ghostly partner, focusing her attention on the woman in front of her. "Have you see the ghosts since you've been cast in this production?"

Stephanie perked up slightly as the realization hit her. "Oddly enough, no. Weird, too, considering I'm Erda's cover..."

* * *

Esposito leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, tired as he was from trying to navigate through so much terrible handwriting. _It's amazing how the 'I hate you's and 'I'm gonna kill you's all blend together after a while..._

His idle thoughts turned, as they often did, to his fiancé. But this time, when Esposito closed his eyes, he *saw* through the eyes of his beloved, who was in the middle of weighing the organs of the body she was performing an autopsy on. Curious as to the strength of the newly recognized link between them, Esposito tried to project his thoughts as his partner had done so often. _Lanie?_

Lanie jumped back from the body, nearly dropping the corpse's stomach on the floor. She wheeled around to face the door, then scanned the room carefully when she realized that the man whose voice she had heard was not actually in the room with her. _Javi? _she thought, _Is that you?_

Esposito chuckled happily into the mind-link. _Yeah, chica, it's me._

_Man, you boys scared me half to death, _Lanie chided as she put the man's stomach on the scale. She frowned as she realized who she wasn't hearing in the conversation. _Ryan? Everything ok?_

_It's...it's actually *just* me, _Esposito admitted.

Esposito could hear Lanie's breath catch in a gasp, just for a moment. _Everything's okay, though, right?_

_Yeah, _replied Esposito. _I actually did this on my own._

_You did? _Lanie asked, clearly confused. _How?_

_Apparently, there's this connection between us, _Esposito told her. _Alexis pointed it out to me this morning. I hadn't actually realized it before then, but now I'm starting to pick up on it more and more._

_Really? _asked Lanie, her skepticism clearly coming through the mind-link.

Esposito nodded before he realized she probably wouldn't recognize the gesture yet. _Try it. Where am I?_

_At your desk at the precinct, _Lanie replied without thinking. _Going through the death threats that sleazebag Vanderkellen's been getting...wow..._ she commented with her own chuckle through the mind-link.

_Yeah, _commented Esposito, _crazy, huh?_

_Yeah..._Lanie agreed in amazement. _So you can't do this with everybody, huh? Just me?_

_Yep. It's a couple's thing, apparently._

Lanie considered Esposito's statement for a moment, then thought about her best friend. _So Beckett and Castle...?_

_He's too far away right now, because of the whole London thing. It *is* the main reason she's been such a pain to be around lately._

_It is, huh? _Lanie continued her autopsy with a smile on her face. _We're going to have to try this out in more...detail later tonight._

Esposito chuckled as he got hit with the full list of Lanie's plans for the evening. _It's a good thing these thoughts are just between us..._

_Yeah, well you're going to have to remember that those ideas are for *later*. I have an autopsy to finish and your partner's starting to get worried..._

_He is...wait, what?_

Esposito closed the connection to his fiancé to see his partner looking over at him with an expression of confusion and concern. "Javi?" asked Ryan, "You ok, man?"

It took a moment for Esposito's mind to switch back to the present. "Yeah," he answered his partner. "What's up?"

Ryan projected into his partner's mind, _You were 'talking' to Lanie, weren't you?_

_Yeah, _Esposito agreed, _how'd you know?_

_I recognize that look, _Ryan replied with a smile. Out loud, he encouraged Esposito to wheel his chair around. "Come here and take a look at this." Esposito pushed his chair around until he could see Ryan's computer. Ryan explained, "I went through Stephanie Frederickson's website and checked the cast lists of as many of them as I could find. Turns out she's worked with some of the same people. A lot."

"Didn't you say that Wagnerian singers are pretty rare?" asked Esposito.

"That's true," agreed Ryan, "but there's a few names that really stick out. They jump around from leading roles to *much* smaller roles to even chorus parts. And there only seems to be one common thread between their choice of job selection."

"Stephanie Frederickson?" asked Esposito.

"Stephanie Frederickson," agreed Ryan.


	4. Chapter 4

"So who else have you been watching?"

Royce turned to Beckett as the elevator door slid closed, leaving them alone. "Who else?"

"You said Stephanie wasn't the only person you've been watching. Who else?"

"Different people," he shrugged. "I watch you a lot." Royce reached out to squeeze Beckett's hand...an odd, chilling sensation as Royce's 'squeeze' went straight through her. "I'm proud of you, kid. You got a really good life for yourself here." When the comment elicited the desired smile and blush from Beckett, Royce couldn't resist adding, "And I'm glad you *finally* took my advice."

Beckett's smile broadened, just for a second. "Yeah, well, better late than never, right?"

"He'll be back in town before you know it, don't worry."

Beckett's blush turned bright red. "That obvious, huh?"

"Yeah, but mostly 'cause I know you..."

Mike's reassurances were cut off as Beckett gasped when she stepped off the elevator. He watched as his old partner blew off her waiting teammates to make a hard left down the nearly empty corridor.

Ryan held off his partner with a knowing smile. _Guys, _he projected, _give her a minute..._His smile became contagious as Esposito got the hint and Mike Royce's ghost disappeared.

* * *

Beckett's lips met Castle's so quickly he had to stop himself to make sure he hadn't teleported into a space where she had already been standing. "Kate?" he gasped out between kisses, "Is everything okay?"

Kate, for her part, was just so happy to be relaxed and in his arms and just plain *whole* again that she'd almost lost track of where she was. Finally focusing her thoughts on something other than kissing, Beckett wrapped her arms around Castle and smiled. "I'm great. I just missed you, that's all."

Castle's relieved smile spoke volumes about the state of his own emotions. "I've missed you, too. That's why I tried to surprise you..." Beckett's smile grew more knowing as Castle frowned in confusion. "Come to think of it, how did you know I was coming?"

"I..." Beckett fumbled for a minute, trying to find the words. Finally, she just decided to trust the 'link' between them. "How'd things go in London?"

"Uh, okay..." replied Castle, surprised by the change of subject. "Although, come to think of it, Paula cancelled my last two appearances and insisted I take the day off since she couldn't change the flight. She said, and these were her words, not mine...she said if I was going to start PMSing I needed to look better in a dress."

Beckett had to deliberately focus to push away the image of her boyfriend in her favorite red evening gown. "Alexis had a...different take on the situation."

"You mean you...?"

Beckett nodded, completing and answering the unasked question. "Were just as bad...or so people have told me. Alexis' theory was that over time because of our...relationship, we've developed a psychic connection between us. Apparently it's the same for Lanie and Esposito as well."

Castle's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

Beckett nodded again. "That's how I knew where you were. The link kicked in the minute you showed up."

"Really?" Castle commented. "Huh..." He tightened his embrace on his girlfriend, marveling at the relief he felt just being in her arms again. And although it had never occurred to him that that feeling was anything more than just a feeling...Castle decided to test his daughter's theory, focusing his thoughts solely on Beckett and his feelings for her...

Castle gasped as he realized he was in Beckett's mind, experiencing their embrace from *her* perspective and enhanced senses. The feeling of holding her and being held by her at the same time was overwhelming, and he pulled back into his own mind almost immediately. "Whoa..." he exclaimed, "that was..."

"Intense..." said Beckett, having trouble putting her own feelings into words.

Castle nodded. "That gave a whole new level of meaning to the idea of meta..."

Beckett nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

Castle pulled away from their embrace, having trouble separating the sensations he felt through the link with his now more limited reality. It felt like going from an endlessly clear blue summer day into a windowless room with the lights off. He stared at his girlfriend in awestruck amazement. "You've got a lot more control over your senses than you used to have..."

Beckett shrugged off the compliment with a smile. "We've all grown a lot, Castle." She took both of his hands in her own and pulled him toward the door. "C'mon. The boys are waiting for you, too."

Curiosity overtook Castle's emotions. "We've got a case?"

"Yep," Beckett replied. "I think you're gonna enjoy this one..."

* * *

Sure enough, Castle was practically bouncing with excitement when he saw the murder board. "Seriously?" he exclaimed. "A spear to the throat? Wow..."

"Yeah," said Beckett, "but that's not the craziest part."

"Really?" Castle drew out the word in anticipation. "That's not the craziest part?"

"Nope," Royce popped in behind the wizard, "that would be the fact that your prime suspect just might be a ghost."

Castle turned around at the sound of the unexpected voice, looking to his partner for confirmation as he mouthed, "Mike Royce?"

As Royce walked through the nearby desk to get closer to the murder board, Beckett nodded to Castle even as she quietly countered Royce's theory. "We can't say for certain that the ghosts killed him, just that there were ghosts at the second crime scene and that Stephanie has seen them."

"Stephanie's seen the ghosts?" asked Ryan.

Beckett nodded. "Her description matched everything Royce told us. Seems like the bird's become her own personal Phantom of the Opera."

Ryan and Esposito traded knowing looks. "There's something else about Stephanie Frederickson you guys should know about. I cross-checked the cast lists of all of her shows," Ryan told the group. "There's a group of five singers that have been with her in every show she's been in since college."

"Maybe the bird's not her only Phantom," Castle mused.

"If that's the case," added Esposito, "then her friends aren't the only possible candidates. We got the threatening letters the opera house has been getting since Vanderkellen started running the place."

Esposito handed Castle the thick file folder, who whistled, impressed, as he started flipping through its contents. "For a guy who's not supposed to be high-profile, he seems to have garnered a lot of negative attention."

"Yeah," agreed Esposito. "But that's not the worst of it." He slid an evidence bag down the contents of the folder to command Castle's full attention.

Castle set the folder down on his desk, careful not to dislodge its contents as he focused on the solitary bagged letter. "Why is this letter bagged as evidence?"

"It's the only one that specifically mentions the current production," Ryan informed them.

"You had it checked for prints, then?" asked Beckett.

Esposito nodded. "Forensics found multiple sets, though, so it's going to take a few hours to figure out whose prints are whose."

"Then we probably won't know until morning," Beckett reminded the group, "so let's call it a day." Four heads around the murder board nodded in agreement.

* * *

Castle collapsed back onto the bed, still lost in the spectacular kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations he had just experienced. "Wow..." he exclaimed, unable to form words of more than one syllable. "That was..."

Beckett curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. "Yeah..."

"I mean," Castle tried to backtrack, "not like it wasn't already spectacular before, but..."

"I get it, Rick," she chuckled. Beckett slid a hand across Castle's chest in a gentle, caressing embrace.

"If this is what it means to be 'linked' like this, I don't think I want to leave your side ever again..."

Beckett pulled herself up so they could talk face-to-face. "As...incredible...as that was, I'm sure you know that being joined at the hip isn't realistic for either of us. Besides, Lanie and Esposito seem to be able to manage just fine clear across town from each other."

Castle turned to he and Beckett were facing each other. "So as long as we..."

Beckett silenced her boyfriend with a kiss. "*Relax*. Now that we know about it, we'll figure out what to do *when we have to*. And unless you need to go back to London to be on that flight back to New York..."

Castle couldn't help but smile as Beckett started laying a trail of kisses from his ear down his neck. He reached into their mind link and found the spot on the back of her neck where if he brushed it just so...the gasp his touch elicited was everything he ever wanted to hear. "Kate, I can promise you right now I have no intention of going *anywhere*..."

* * *

**Hi all! Short chapter, for two reasons: 1) Life has gotten a little nuts lately, which has left me with less time to write than I had over the summer, and 2) After the Storm. I could have sat on this and posted it after another couple of pages, but now that season five has officially started I wanted to let you guys know that you will see various spoilers for the current US season from this point on in the series. And yes, that includes _Ascension. _Marlowe has played right into my evil, twisted little plan, which means that the series finale will be a full resolution of the series' Dragon subplot...Guardian style. ;D  
From this point on, I will probably post roughly once a week on Monday nights before the East Coast airing of new season 5 episodes. So until Monday, don't forget to leave comments below!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank God for schedule changes and lousy weather. :) I'm still expecting to make my Monday deadline, but since I was able to get this ready early I couldn't wait to share. :D**

* * *

Castle woke up slowly, savoring the feel of having his girlfriend draped across him. More urgent biological needs quickly took precedence, though, so he gently untangled himself from the mess of limbs and sheets and made his way to the bathroom.

After using the toilet and getting a drink of water, he stood in the doorway to the bedroom, watching the way that the moonlight shone in her hair and cast the subtlest of shadows across her naked back. He rubbed his thumbs across his fingertips, remembering the electric connection between those fingertips and his beloved's gloriously sensitive skin. Not that his own...sensitivities were any less impressive. Not any more. Castle reached through the link that he was just starting to accept as a part of them. She was dreaming of him; the idea made him smile.

Castle thought about going back to bed, but then his jet lag kicked in full force and he knew that sleep was not going to be on his to-do list any time soon. Not in the mood to wander around the loft naked, he found his boxers, putting them on quietly so as not to disturb Beckett while she slept. The wizard slipped out of the room, letting the door close behind him with a soft 'click'...

...and nearly walked straight through the spirit of Mike Royce, who was wandering around the study, examining everything he could without the ability to actually *touch* anything. "Mike!" Castle exclaimed in a surprised whisper. "I...wasn't expecting to see you there." The realization of their changed reality dawned on him quickly as he continued, "I wasn't expecting to see you at *all*, really..."

"It's that link between you guys," Royce replied.

Castle's eyes widened, remembering when he and Beckett had talked about the connection between them...and what they had been doing at the time. "How do you know about the link, Mike?" asked Castle, trying to keep his voice steady.

Mike smiled, enjoying having the upper hand on the younger man. "Relax, Tiger. I've never been the type of guy who liked to watch. The link shows up in your auras sometimes."

"And you can see our auras?" asked Castle.

"Every once in a while," Royce replied with a shrug. "It's a dead guy thing."

Castle nodded, accepting Royce's statement at face value. "So what are you doing here at this hour, Mike?"

Royce turned away from Castle, just for a split second. The writer might have thought the ghost was actually *blushing*. "I, uh...I was kind of curious to see how the other half lives. I figured you guys were gonna be asleep, so..."

"Sorry," Castle apologized, "jumping continents did a number on my sleep cycle."

"Ah." Royce studied the younger man from his vantage point by the window. "I know about the...understanding she has with Bracken." Castle nodded, accepting the shift in conversation. "You know it's total BS, right?" asked Mike. "That she's bluffing with the little bits of information you guys were able to piece together when the safe blew?"

Castle sat down at his desk, opening the combination safe he kept underneath. He pulled out a manila folder clearly emblazoned with the NYPD logo. "She was bluffing then. She's not anymore."

Mike approached the desk carefully, not believing what he was seeing. He tried to open the file, only to watch his hand pass through the desk. Royce looked to the man across from him. "Would you mind?" Castle flipped open the file, showing Royce the contents of the folder. Mike had to remind himself that he was no longer simply dealing with Richard Castle, playboy crime novelist. "Your work, I take it?" Royce asked with a smile.

Castle's face held no such smile. "It was one of the first spells I ever created on my own," he replied. "Took me a week to perfect it." He closed the file and carefully returned it to the safe.

"Does Katie know you have that?" asked Royce.

Castle shook his head. "Let's just call this my ace in the hole."

"So if Bracken ever tries to call her bluff..."

"The file will go public." Castle stood up, coming around the desk to sit on its edge and talk to Royce at something closer to eye level. "When Kate and I first got together the one thing that frustrated me, more than anything else, was the idea that I was powerless to protect her from these people."

"And this is your way of protecting her," Royce stated.

Castle responded with a half-hearted smile. "Part of it, yeah."

Royce shook his head sadly. "Man, you two really are perfect for each other..." he commented quietly. "Couple 'a stubborn jackasses..."

Castle shook his head in disbelief at the crack he had just heard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Castle," Royce replied simply. "*She* goes running off alone to protect *you* and *you* keep secrets to protect *her*. How's that working out for you kids so far?" The ghost backed away toward the living room in an attempt to get out of Castle's face and give the younger man a chance to process what he was saying. Castle was carefully considering what Mike was trying to tell him...and it was clear to Royce that his point was starting to get through. "You know I'm right about this."

Castle finally, reluctantly, nodded in agreement. "I'll tell her about the file."

Mike let out a sigh of relief. "Good. Hey, did I ever tell you about this girl biker gang Beckett helped me take down..."

* * *

Beckett winced as the first bright rays of sunlight streamed through the loft's windows. As she slowly eased herself into the waking world, it didn't take long for her to notice who was missing from her bed. She extended her hearing through the loft, smiling as she heard something that Kate thought she might never get the chance to ever hear:

Castle and Royce, the best two partners she's ever had, swapping stories.

About her.

Beckett sped up her morning routine, though, when she realized that the longer their conversation went on, the more embarrassing the stories were likely to get. Foregoing a shower, she made it into the living room just as Castle was describing the snake smuggling case.

"So we're both in this restaurant, on first dates with other people," Castle explained, "and all *either* of us can think about is the case. I kept making excuses to go to the bathroom and talk to Beckett, which Amanda saw right through, so by the time we were heading back to the precinct our dates had totally given up on both of us and sat down to have dinner *with each other*..."

Mike shook his head in amused amazement. "So your dates hooked up with each *other*?"

"Actually, they did," Beckett chimed in. When Castle and Royce gave her their full attention, she continued, "Lanie mentioned them to me the other day. Apparently they're getting married some time next spring."

"Really?" commented Castle. "Good for them."

"Were your ears burning back there, kid?" asked Royce with a mischievous smile. "Your boyfriend and I have been swapping stories for quite a while..."

Beckett joined Castle on the couch with a wary expression. "How long is 'a while'?"

Castle looked out the window, finally realizing that he had talked with Royce until past sunrise. "Wow," he exclaimed, "we've been talking for hours, easy." Castle turned to give his girlfriend a good morning kiss. "Want me to go make us some coffee?"

"Sounds great," Beckett replied with a smile as she relaxed into her spot on the couch. She watched Castle head off the kitchen before turning her attentions to her old partner. "Have you been here all night, Mike?"

Royce simply shrugged in response, "Guess so." His smile turned mischievous again as he teased, "Relax, Kate. I didn't say anything to embarrass you...much."

Beckett raised her hand to smack Royce on the arm, then stopped herself when she realized the gesture would have gone straight through him. She watched her hand as she lowered it, contemplating the absurdity of her current situation before shifting her focus to the plans for the upcoming day. "What do you know about Stephanie's friends?"

"Decent bunch," replied Royce. "They all know each other pretty well."

Castle returned from the kitchen with coffee cups for both himself and Beckett. As he settled in next to her on the couch, Castle asked Royce, "Any of them seem like they might have taken an interest in the supernatural?"

"A couple," Royce told them. "Mostly through Stephanie."

"Their friend's in trouble, so they wanted to help her out kind of thing?" asked Beckett. Royce nodded. "Any relationship drama in the group we can use to our advantage?"

Royce shook his head. "Nah, the guys in this bunch are gay. A couple of them even dated each other in college...although, Stephanie did hook up with one of the guys about a year ago..." Mike leaned back on the couch, kicking himself for not remembering this information sooner. "The guy she dated? Jake Bradford."

Beckett's eyes widened when she recognized the name. "The last surviving Wotan?"

"Yeah," Royce nodded. "That's him."

* * *

Vanderkellen unlocked the door to the empty dressing room, flinging the door open with barely concealed impatience. "I will have my assistant bring the singers to you at *their* convenience, starting with Mr. Bradford."

Beckett was unfazed by the older man's frustration. "The NYPD greatly appreciates your cooperation with this investigation, Mr. Vanderkellen," she countered diplomatically.

The general manager nodded in appreciation of the expression of respect. "Please don't delay my people any longer than necessary, detective. I do have a very busy schedule to keep."

Beckett nodded as Vanderkellen turned to leave, then ushered Castle into the dressing room. As she watched Castle set up the chairs to prep for the interviews, Beckett couldn't help but smile.

Castle noticed his girlfriend's expression out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Nothing," Kate shrugged casually. "I just missed you, that's all."

Rick's smile matched his girlfriends, just for a moment. "Me too."

The moment passed quickly as Jacob Bradford appeared in the doorway behind them. The instant change in her partner's demeanor told Beckett that their first interview had arrived. "Mr. Bradford," Beckett announced, "please have a seat."

Jacob Bradford sat down in the single chair facing them, fidgeting nervously. "Detectives? You wanted to see me?"

Beckett nodded as she and Castle sat down to begin. "Don't worry, Mr. Bradford," she informed the singer, "We'll keep this brief. What was your relationship with Thomas Engebretsen?"

Jacob looked back at her quizzically. "I...followed him around for two days. After the first Wotan died the director insisted we both learn the staging in a hurry. Why?" His confusion suddenly grew to alarm. "You don't think I had anything to do with his death, do you?"

"Did you?" asked Castle. "I mean after all, you did stand to gain the most from his death."

Beckett had to filter out the sound of Bradford's heartbeat as the man's pulse raced out of control. "God, no," he gasped, "I *never* would have wanted Engebretsen to die. I *needed* him here, badly."

"Really?" frowned Beckett. "Why's that?"

"I took this job to *learn* to play Wotan," exclaimed Jacob, "not to actually have to *play* him! And for Engebretsen to have died so close to dress rehearsal...If I had been there I might have actually laid down in between him and the spear. And I sure as hell wouldn't have been the one *holding* that spear!"

Beckett spoke up in hopes of defusing the situation by changing the subject. "What's your relationship to Stephanie Frederickson?"

Bradford blinked and shook his head, thrown by the shift in conversation. "My ex? What would she have to do with this?"

Beckett played into the possessive tone she heard in Bradford's response. "We had a source tell us that people in the productions she's been in have had a tendency to be somewhat accident-prone..."

Bradford started shaking his head. "No way. Stephanie could never hurt anybody. And-and those incidents in th-the shows, they were just accidents..."

"Like Hightower's drowning was an accident?" Beckett countered. As Bradford slumped down in his chair in shock and disbelief, Beckett leaned in to reassure him. "Look, Mr. Bradford, I don't think that Stephanie's involved...at least, not directly. According to our source, Stephanie's been..."

"Haunted?" Bradford's reply was tentative, terrified, and barely above a whisper.

Beckett nodded. "We have reason to believe Mr. Engebretsen's death may be connected to that...but you don't seem too surprised to hear that."

Bradford shook his head. "Ow-our third show together in college. I was waiting up to walk her to her dorm room...and I saw them. She said they were harmless, but I found that pretty hard to believe...especially after her principal 'suddenly' wrapped her car around a tree."

"You suspected a connection?" asked Castle.

Bradford nodded as he stood up, signaling the end of the interview. "I'm sorry," he excused himself, "but I really need to go get ready for the show. Look, I'm not the only one who's seen Stephanie's ghosts over the years. After the first scene is over you should talk to Alex Korotkin; she's been friends with Steph almost as long as I have and she knows more about the ghosts than any of us."

Castle got up and shook Bradford's offered hand. "Break a leg out there, Mr. Bradford."

"Under the circumstances, I hope not," Bradford replied with a nervous chuckle, "but I appreciate the sentiment all the same."

The two Guardians watched Bradford walk out of the dressing room as Ryan projected into their mind. _Guys?_

_Yeah, _Beckett replied, _what's up guys?_

_Lanie's got the results back on Engebretsen's autopsy and on the spear. You guys might want to come down here and check this out._


	6. Chapter 6

_Is the lab clear? _asked Castle.

_Yeah, _Lanie replied.

_Beckett, can you close and lock the door to the dressing room? _Castle asked his partner.

They were in the lab before Beckett had the time to put her hand down from locking the door. She switched into business mode immediately. "We need to get back before anyone notices we're gone," Beckett announced to the group, "so let's make this fast. Lanie, what do you have?"

The ME handed Beckett the 'official' copy of her report. "Official cause of death is the spear to the throat," Lanie informed them, "so no surprise there."

"What's the surprise?" asked Castle.

Lanie handed Beckett the large bag holding their murder weapon. "The surprise is that there's nothing on the spear that matches that substance you guys had Alexis scrape off the back wall of the theater. The spear's completely clean."

*That* surprised the group. "Wait a second," Castle started thinking out loud, "if a ghost didn't kill Engebretsen, then what did?"

"Magic," Beckett replied, never taking her eyes or her hands off the spear. When she realized her statement had the group's complete attention, Beckett explained, "When Castle enchants something with a strong spell I can feel the energy in it. There are traces of that kind of energy running through this spear. It's fading slowly, but it's definitely there."

"So we're looking for another wizard, now?" asked Esposito. "Not a ghost?"

"That would be my guess, yeah," Beckett replied.

Esposito looked relieved. "Good. Wizards, I can handle."

"Can't argue that," Beckett agreed. "Listen, we need to get back and finish interviewing Stephanie and her friends. Ryan, Esposito, follow up with Forensics on the prints and have them run the rest of the letters in case anyone else is in the system. Now that we know we're not just ghost hunting maybe that'll get us a more solid lead."

"You got it, boss," said Ryan.

"We need to get back, then, Castle..." said Beckett.

They were back in the dressing room before Beckett had a chance to add on to the statement. Unfazed by the instant change in her location, Beckett simply went to the dressing room door and opened it to find Vanderkellen's assistant patiently waiting outside. "We need to see Stephanie Frederickson and Alex Korotkin," she ordered the man.

"Right away, detective," Martin responded, running off to get the requested women.

While the two Guardians waited for their next interview to arrive, Castle asked Beckett, "Do you think we're looking for a wizard or a ghost?"

"Both," Beckett replied. "Well technically, one of each. From what Royce told me, I'm pretty sure the bird is a ghost."

A third voice joined the conversation. "And the old lady isn't?"

Castle and Beckett turned to discover that Mike Royce had materialized in the room. "There was no ectoplasm on the spear. Not even traces," Beckett informed him. "So we can't conclusively say that a ghost handled the spear that killed Engebretsen."

Royce was undeterred from his argument. "But you can't disprove it, either."

Castle shook her head. "Still, I need to keep an open mind. Your ghost might not be the killer we're looking for."

"*My* ghost?"

The opening strains of the overture came through the monitors as the group turned to see Stephanie Frederickson enter the dressing room. Castle switched gears from arguing with his partner's former partner to greeting their witness and covering for their conversation with the ghost. "Ms. Frederickson, I presume?"

Stephanie nodded. "You asked to see me?"

"I did," Beckett told her. "We have reason to believe that those ghosts you've been seeing might not be ghosts at all. I need you to think back to your encounters with them. Did you see or hear anything that might have led you to think that someone else was around when you saw them?"

"Some of my friends have seen them over the years," Stephanie replied as she sat down.

Beckett nodded, agreeing with the statement even as she opened her notebook. "Mr. Bradford has already mentioned to us that he's seen them."

Stephanie nodded. "I know he's seen them, Bryce has seen them..."

"Bryce?" asked Beckett, looking for clarification.

"Bryce Parrish," replied Stephanie. "And Alex Korot..."

Stephanie's voice was cut off as a scream ripped through the monitors and echoed down the corridors backstage. The orchestra stopped as soon as the conductor realized that something had gone catastrophically wrong, leaving no music to underscore the woman's worried cries of "Oh God, no, no, no, no, no no no no no..."

* * *

Beckett and Castle followed the distraught woman to the theater, where she pushed a path through the crowd of onlookers to find her best friend collapsed in a pile on the landing. The detective followed Stephanie through the crowd to Alex's side and checked her pulse, letting out a relieved breath when she found one. "She's alive," Beckett declared to the crowd's relief.

Castle started barking out orders to the crowd. "Call 911," he told one person. "Get Vanderkellen here *now*," he told someone else. To the rest, Castle announced, "NYPD, we'll take care of her from here."

_Castle? _Beckett's voice echoed in the wizard's mind.

_Beckett? _he asked back. _What is it?_

_Alex is *badly* hurt. If we don't get her to Lanie she might never recover from this._

Castle sighed, knowing the risk they were taking if this wasn't handled with exacting precision. _All right, I'll get everyone. I'll use the dressing room. Back in two minutes._

* * *

Castle closed and locked the dressing room door behind him. The three people he was looking for appeared instantly...although none seemed to be too happy to be where they were. "Jesus, Castle," exclaimed Esposito, "you're just lucky we were in the elevator..."

"Sorry," Castle apologized, wincing.

"What's the rush?" asked Ryan. "Is Beckett okay?"

"She's fine," replied Castle. "But one of our witnesses just took a massive header on the stage. She's barely hanging on. Lanie, Kate asked me to bring you in *specifically*." Lanie nodded, understanding the significance of the request. Castle turned to Esposito. "Javi, go with her. The, uh...conscious witness with Beckett is Stephanie Frederickson. She knows more than she thinks she knows about our 'ghosts'."

Esposito nodded. "On it."

"Ryan, can you work crowd control? Make sure no one thinks anything is too suspicious?" Ryan nodded. "Thanks. Oh, and paramedics have been called, can you give us a heads up before they get here?"

As Ryan nodded again, Castle told the group, "I'm going to see if I can get some vibes off of this machine..."

* * *

Lanie touched Beckett on her shoulder, letting her distracted friend know of her presence. _We're here, honey._

Beckett stepped away from the first aid she was delivering, allowing herself a small relieved smile. "Don't worry," she told Stephanie, "I promise you your friend is in the best of hands."

_I'll take that as a compliment, _Beckett heard Lanie's voice echo in her mind. _And you were right to call me. I'm surprised your friend here's still alive. _

_How long do you need?_ asked Ryan.

_I'll take all the time you can give me, _Lanie replied.

_Okay, so far anyone who passes this door thinks it's to the broom closet, _Ryan told the group, _but I can't keep that up when the paramedics get here._

_ETA two minutes Ryan, _Beckett chimed in. _Thanks. _She backed away from Lanie's work space, looking up to examine the point from which Alex had fallen. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light, and she saw the problem immediately: the wire dangled high above their heads, its shredded edges still swaying from the force of the break. The two other Rhinemaidens hung precariously next to the wire that had held their friend, dangling from similar, though far more secure-looking wires. The girls were shell-shocked; their worst nightmare had just played out in front of them and the terror on both their faces proved that they hadn't quite come to grips with their own situation just yet. _Castle? _Beckett asked through the group mind-link, _Can you get the other two girls down?_

_On it, _Castle replied. The wizard focused on gently but quickly lowering each girl into Esposito's waiting arms, who unhooked each woman from their riggings.

The two women snapped out of their haze when their friend sat up with a groan. "Alex!" the two women exclaimed, "You're okay!"

"I am?" Alex replied, slowly finding her voice again.

_Paramedics incoming, _Ryan announced to the group over the mind-link.

_We should probably get back to the morgue, _insisted Lanie.

_Agreed, _Castle projected through the link. _Thanks for your help, guys. _

The two Guardians slipped into the background as the paramedics burst into the area and disappeared while everyone's attention was focused on the fallen singer.

* * *

Beckett and Castle supported Stephanie as the paramedics wheeled her best friend Alex Korotkin out of the theater. A third woman clad in black rags ran up to the trio, watching the stretcher in complete distress. "Is that...Steph, is that *Alex*?"

Tears streaming down her face, Stephanie nodded. "Yeah Bryce, her wire snapped during the overture. Go. I'll cover for you."

Bryce gathered her friend up into a fierce hug, whispering a quick "Thank you, Stephanie," before sprinting off after the paramedics.

"That was Bryce Parrish?" asked Castle.

Stephanie nodded. "She's Alex's girlfriend."

"She's the other one who's seen the ghosts?" asked Beckett. Stephanie nodded again.

Vanderkellen intercepted the group as they were helping Stephanie back to the dressing room. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why did the rehearsal stop?"

Beckett and Castle exchanged quizzical glances before addressing the surprisingly clueless general manager. "The wire on one of your Rhinemaidens snapped during the overture," Beckett told the man, "She is currently on the way to the hospital."

Vanderkellen looked like someone had sucker punched him. "How did I not know about this?" he gasped out.

"I sent someone to get you as soon as she fell," Castle insisted. "No one found you?"

Vanderkellen shook his head. "I was in my office. Everyone knew where I was..."

Beckett pulled away from Stephanie, moving to help the older man. "Mr. Vanderkellen, you need to cancel this rehearsal and give us access to that stage. Until we find out what's going on here, anyone in this building could be at risk."

"Yes," Vanderkellen responded almost without thinking, "yes, of course. Whatever you need."

"We need to talk with every member of the cast and crew...anyone who was backstage before the rehearsal started. Since the accident happened before the women were onstage, it should be fine to let the audience members leave," Beckett told him.

Vanderkellen nodded mutely and left to talk to the ushers and theater management staff.


	7. Chapter 7

The three Guardians quickly shrugged off the disorientation that came with teleportation, double-checking their surroundings to ensure their safety. It was only then that they noticed the man who let out a gasp when he finally turned to notice them. "Jesus," exclaimed Perlmutter, "I didn't see you guys there."

"That's because we weren't here a second ago," Lanie teased with a smile. "Got anything on Hightower?"

"You're lucky Hightower doesn't have any family in town to claim the body," Perlmutter countered. He picked up a manilla folder from the desk and handed it to his colleague. "I checked that substance you got from the Engebretsen crime scene against Hightower's head wound. It was a match."

Ryan and Esposito flanked Lanie, each looking over one of her shoulders at the file. "So the bird killed Hightower?" asked Ryan.

"Can't be sure of that," replied Lanie, her eyes never leaving the file. "All we know for sure is that there was a ghost around the head wound when Hightower died."

Ryan's participation in the conversation was cut short by his ringing cell phone. "Ryan," he greeted the caller. Putting a finger to his other ear, Ryan tried to identify the caller, "Beckett? Is that you?" Hearing nothing intelligible on the other end of the line, he hung up the phone in favor of more reliable communication. _Beckett? _Ryan projected through the mind-link, _did you just try to call?_

_Yeah, sorry about that, _Beckett replied, _cell phone reception here is beyond terrible. Can you guys get back down here? The GM just gave permission to canvas the entire cast and crew about the accident._

_Castle grabbing us, or do we have to go the old-fashioned way? _asked Ryan.

_Sorry, _replied Beckett with a chuckle down the mind-link, _you'll just have to take the scenic route and drive._

_Funny, _Ryan countered with just a hint of sarcasm as he closed down the link. Focusing his attention on the people in the room with him, he told them, "Bro, Beckett needs us to head back to Lincoln Center and interview the cast and crew."

"Are we looking for potential suspects or potential targets?" asked Esposito.

"Probably some of both," Ryan shrugged. "I'm just hoping no one's been possessed by our prime suspect..."

* * *

Two hours later, the four Guardians were collapsed on the red cushioned benches backstage. Ryan rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "Nothing," he breathed out in frustration. "We got nothing!"

"What we *have*," Castle chimed in, "is that no one in the *crew* saw or heard anything out of the ordinary until the machine started to lift the Rhinemaidens onstage. We haven't been able to talk to any of the cast yet."

"Most of the cast weren't anywhere near the scene except for the Rhinemaidens," said Beckett. "Esposito, any luck with the other two girls?"

Esposito shook his head. "Neither girl saw anything out of the ordinary, but by the time they were in their riggings they were off in their own little worlds. They barely noticed Alex was in trouble until the cable snapped and she screamed."

"So the only person left for us to talk to is Alex Korotkin," announced Ryan.

Beckett agreed. "We should get to the hospital..."

"...or you could talk to me right now." Alex Korotkin walked up to the group and introduced herself. "You're the cops that are investigating why my wire snapped?"

When Beckett nodded, Bryce asked, "But I thought that was an accident?"

"It might have been," Beckett told her, "but since this happened so close to Thomas Engebretsen's death, we have to suspect there might be a connection between the two incidents."

"*Especially* since I should be dead right now," Alex insisted to both women.

Castle was surprised by the woman's insistent declaration. "You sound very sure about that, Ms. Korotkin?"

"Well, when the fifth doctor starts calling you a walking miracle you start to understand how close you came to death," Alex joked. A nervous edge suddenly entered the woman's voice as she continued, "That, and..."

"And what, Alex?" asked Beckett.

Alex shifted her weight between her feet, suddenly unable to look the detectives in the eye. Finally, a look of peace settled on the woman, and she focused her eyes back on the group once again. "I saw a sirin, detective. That's how I was so sure I was about to die."

Beckett's eyes widened with recognition as the other three Guardians frowned in confusion. "What's a sirin?"

"An old Russian legend," explained Beckett. "They were kinda like the Greek sirens: singers whose beautiful music compelled men to follow them to their deaths."

"But that's not what the sirin was doing when I saw it," Alex picked up the explanation.

"What was it doing?" asked Beckett.

Alex swallowed a dry lump in her throat before answering. "It was chewing on my wire, detective. That's why I fell."

Bryce moved in, prepared to offer an explanation for her girlfriend's outlandish story. What she wasn't prepared for was Beckett's total acceptance of Alex's story. "Castle, Ryan, go get scrapings from that wire," she ordered them, "we'll need to compare that to the other crime scenes."

"On it," the two men replied as they headed back to the stage.

Bryce gawked at the two women in disbelief. "You seem pretty sure she's telling the truth, detective."

"Surprised?" asked Beckett.

Bryce nodded. "You don't seem like the X-Files type."

"I'm more inclined to keep an open mind than you'd think," countered Beckett.

Alex noticed something else in what Beckett said...and what she didn't say. "You are familiar with the legend of the sirin, detective?"

Beckett nodded. "We also talked to Stephanie Frederickson. Actually...she did say that you've seen the sirin before tonight?"

"I saw Stephanie's ghost," Alex clarified before she completely processed Beckett's statement. "Wait, Stephanie's seen a sirin?" Beckett nodded again. "More than once?"

Beckett frowned at Alex's second question. "Is that important?"

"The sirin sings a song that leads people to their deaths," replied Alex. "So if Stephanie keeps seeing the sirin, then the bird..."

Beckett completed the thought "...is just singing a longer, more complicated song. But Stephanie is still the sirin's target." Alex nodded in agreement.

Bryce listened to the conversation between Alex and Beckett with a growing sense of fear. "Alex," she finally asked in a trembling whisper, "if you see this...this sirin thing, it means you're going to die, right?"

"Yeah?" asked Alex.

"Wha...what does the sirin look like?"

Beckett had a hunch she knew what was causing Bryce's racing heartbeat and rapidly paling skin. "It has the head of a woman and the body of an owl. Why?"

Bryce sounded like she was trying desperately to hold onto her last shreds of hope. "Because I saw one. Three nights ago."

* * *

Beckett popped open a dry-erase marker, carefully writing down any information they had gotten from the accident at Lincoln Center and subsequent interviews. She double-checked her work to make sure that there was no mention of ghosts, sirins, wizards, or her old training partner in the public copy of her notes. The detective stared at the murder board as if willing more useful information to appear before her. She felt the presence of her teammates before she ever saw them. _Anything I'm missing that's 'safe' information for us to put on the board? _she asked the group through Ryan's mind-link.

_You mean stuff that wouldn't have Karpowski labeling us as crazy? _Esposito teased before studying the board for himself. _Perlmutter connected Hightower's drowning to Engebretsen's crime scene._

Beckett added as much of Hightower's information to the board as she could. _How'd he make the connection? _she asked.

_Ectoplasm, _replied Esposito. _There was some on Hightower's head wound that was a match to the stuff you scraped off the theater wall._

_So the sirin was at the fountain when Hightower died, _Beckett commented through the mind-link, _do you think the bird killed him?_

_If you had asked me back at the morgue, _Ryan replied while sipping his coffee, _I would have said we didn't have enough evidence to say that conclusively. But after hearing Alex accuse the bird of chewing through her wire..._

Beckett nodded. _Yeah, my money's on the sirin now, too..._

_Still, _chimed in Castle, _that doesn't explain Engebretsen's death, from what you told me. The sirin could never have held that spear, let alone rammed it through his throat like that._

_Not to mention that Lanie said the spear didn't have any ectoplasm on it, _chimed in Esposito.

Beckett continued to study the board, looking for the odd socks. _The spear's a weak link here, _she mused. _Hightower's death and the attack on Alex were made to look like accidents. Engebretsen's death was clearly set up to look like a homicide._

_So why him? _asked Castle.

"Maybe we're looking at the wrong group of enemies," Beckett told the group out loud. "We've been focused on the company's enemies. Maybe Engebretsen just got somebody mad enough to kill him and his death is unrelated to the other two cases. Either way, we need to get a closer look at Engebretsen's life and *especially* any possible enemies, especially-from what I understand-his exes. Ryan, can you work on that?"

"No problem," said Ryan.

_Can you check out the spear from Forensics to look at it tonight? _Castle asked his partner.

_I should be able to, _replied Beckett, _why?_

_The spear wasn't completely clean, even if it was free of ectoplasm. You said you felt residual magic energy when you touched the spear._

Beckett nodded._ You think you might be able to trace that magic back to the wizard who used it?_

_Worth a shot, _Castle shrugged. _I'll call Alexis, see if she's free to help us work on this._

Esposito took a call on his office line while Castle was on the phone. The group conversation resumed when both men's conversations ended. "That was forensics," Esposito announced to the group. "They got back the prints on the letter. One set of the prints belonged to Vanderkellen, one set isn't in the system..."

Beckett pushed when her fellow detective hesitated on the third set. "And?"

_And the third set they said was impossible to identify as human_.

* * *

**Hi all! Don't forget to feed the writer! She likes lots of comments...:)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello everyone! I just wanted to tell you guys that I have been completely blown away with the response to Power Play. As of tonight the story's gotten 39 alerts, 19 reviews and 14 people marking it as a favorite, all records for me when it comes to a 'one-shot'. I cannot thank you guys enough. I've also gotten 11 new people who've requested author alerts since the publication of Power Play.  
**

**So in case any of you have stumbled in here by accident through a recent author alert, welcome to the Twilight Zone! This is the 8th chapter in the 8th story of my fantasy A/U "Four Winds" series. In deference to the people who have been looking forward to Guardian Monday since last week, I'm not going to waste any time explaining the base concept of this series here. Either go to the summary at the beginning of Chapter 1, or if you want to start from the *very* beginning, click on my Author page and look for the story "Four Winds". Then come back here when you're ready. :D  
**

**For the rest of you, I hope it was worth the wait!  
**

* * *

"So you caught Dad and your old training partner *after* they had been swapping stories about you for half the night? That must have been awkward..."

"Yeah," replied Beckett, twirling spaghetti around her fork as she talked. "It was a little surreal, actually..."

"I'll bet," Alexis agreed with a smile and an amazed shake of her head. An question came quickly to her mind. "Hey, is he here now?"

Mike Royce answered from the couch, clearly bored out of his mind. "Yep. Not going anywhere anytime *soon*, that's for sure..."

Beckett had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, remembering that Alexis couldn't hear what Royce had just declared. "Oh," Beckett commented with a tactful smile, "he's definitely here, all right..."

Alexis seemed taken aback by the idea that there was a presence in the room that she could neither see nor hear. She asked Beckett in a conspiratorial whisper, "What should I say to him?"

"You don't have to say anything," Kate replied. "You can't see him, right?" Alexis shook her head.

"Oh great," Royce teased, rolling his eyes, "now you're teaching the kid to ignore me? Some stepmother *you* are..."

Now it was Castle's turn to roll *his* eyes. The wizard turned his attention to the women finishing up dinner at the kitchen counter even as he directed his question to all three of them. "*Ladies*, if dinner's as finished as I think it is, can we get started?"

The two women nodded; as they got up from the table, their dishes disappeared. Beckett grabbed the bagged spear and letter from the couch and put them on the table. "Okay," Beckett announced to the group, "These are the two key items to our investigation. What do we know about them?"

Castle picked up the letter. "This was the only letter that threatened a specific production as opposed to just threatening Vanderkellen personally. The only set of prints that could be identified were Vanderkellen's; there was one additional set not in the system and one that Forensics couldn't identify at all."

Beckett focused her attention on the spear. "This wasn't the spear used in the production; it was taken from a display case in the lobby."

"You said you could feel the remnants of the magic in the spear the first time you held it," Alexis added. "Can you still feel it?" Beckett nodded. "Can you see it like you did at the crime scene?"

Beckett focused on the aura surrounding the spear. "Yeah, it's still there..." A faint glow attracted her attention from the other side of the table. The detective grabbed the letter, which was the source of the curious glow.

"What do you see, Kate?" asked Alexis.

"The mystery set of prints on the letter...I can see them," replied Beckett. She lined up edges of the letter with the handle of the spear. "They look like regular fingerprints."

"At least from that perspective," Castle chimed in.

Beckett nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I can see why forensics had trouble with them."

"Do the prints match up?" asked Alexis.

"As far as I can tell," Beckett replied. She pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve the tension as she re-focused her eyesight on the physical world around her. "It's not like we can lift the prints and run them through the system anyway..."

A lightbulb went off in Castle's mind. "Maybe we can..." he mused. The wizard stretched his hand over the table, focusing his concentration on the spear and the letter.

Alexis grabbed her father's hand before he could get close to the evidence bags. "Dad, wait!" she exclaimed. "If you use magic to lift the 'prints', won't that contaminate whatever you get?"

Castle lifted his hand immediately, recognizing that his daughter was right. He ran his hands through his hair, forcing himself to stop his runaway train of thought. Alexis smiled as she watched her father's 'process', grateful that he had finally, somewhere, found some impulse control. "Don't worry, dad," she announced with a smile, "I have an idea."

Beckett and Castle watched as Alexis backed away from the table and turned toward the living room. Her eyes lost focus as she started looking for someone she knew she couldn't see or hear. "Mister...Mister Royce?"

Royce smiled as he watched Alexis 'searching' for him. "Beckett, tell the kid she can call me Mike."

Beckett crossed through the dining room and intercepted Alexis before she made it to her father's study. "He's over here by me, Alexis. And he says you can call him Mike."

Alexis smiled, grateful to have a physical form to focus her attention on. She returned to the dining room table, the two Guardians and their tag along ghost trailing along behind. "Okay, Mike. I have a question for you. How much energy would it take for a ghost to lift this spear?"

"Tons," Royce replied. "Poltergeists are the strongest of all ghosts."

Castle relayed the information to his daughter, adding, "but sweetheart, Mike doesn't have that kind of power. I had to flip through a file that he wanted to see last night because he couldn't lift a sheet of paper." When he caught the lifting of Beckett's curious eyebrow, Castle turned to his girlfriend and quickly whispered, "I'll tell you later."

Beckett studied Mike and Alexis carefully, pushing herself to try and figure out where Alexis was going with this. When she noticed how the soles of Mike's shoes were going through the area rug to rest on the floor *beneath* the rug, Beckett realized she had caught on to Alexis' idea. "Ectoplasm..."

Alexis nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! Mike, I don't think you need to actually manipulate the letter and the spear, just to *try* to."

Beckett pulled a set of evidence gloves out of her purse and carefully removed the letter and the spear from their bags.

Royce stared at the items, clearly apprehensive about working off of Alexis' theory. "Wait a second, ectoplasm is *physical* matter. If these 'prints' are made up of energy, won't the slime just go through them...maybe even dissolve them completely?"

Castle relayed Royce's concerns to Alexis before Beckett could counter his argument. "But you keep saying it yourself, Mike," Beckett insisted, "you're not that powerful a ghost."

"Gee, thanks, kid," Mike teased.

Beckett let the comment roll off, continuing her argument without missing a beat. "Worst case scenario, your hand passes straight through the spear and the letter without leaving any evidence you even made the attempt."

Alexis picked up Beckett's train of thought, adding to it in an effort to convince the ghost of his power. "It's...it may be a little more complicated than that." Alexis asked Royce, "Can you see the prints on the letter and the spear?" Royce nodded; Castle relayed the message, and Alexis continued her explanation, "Mike, what I want you to do is attempt to...God, I hate to say it like this...I want you to try to drip your blood on the prints."

Royce's eyes widened for a split second before he broke into a smile. "Good idea, kid. *Really* good idea...That just might work..." As Beckett and Castle turned to *him* for an explanation, Royce told them, "Ghosts are made up of energy and ectoplasm. Because I'm a low-level spirit, I don't have much of either. The residual energy in those prints is *strong*; it has to be for me to still be able to see it so long after the wizard used it. Beckett, you were wrong about the worst case scenario being that nothing would happen; the *worst* case scenario would be that I stir up the energy from the prints and make it impossible for you to get anything useful from them. But going over the prints in drops...that just might work..." Royce approached the table cautiously, not wanting to go *through* the table. He took a pin out of the pocket of his jacket, piercing the tip of his finger just enough to draw blood. The drops disappeared as they fell the few inches from his hand to the table. Royce's expression grew into more and more of a grimace as he worked, clearly in pain by the time he got to the letter.

Beckett watched the ghost of her old partner with a growing feeling of concern. "Royce?" she asked, "Are you okay?"

Royce refused to answer until he finished with the letter. "I'm fine, that was just a little more...uncomfortable than I thought it was going to be. Did it work?"

Beckett focused on the prints on the letter, smiling as she saw the results. "Alexis?" she asked, "Did you bring that print lifting kit I asked for?" Alexis nodded, pulling the powder, brush and tape out of her bag.

Castle watched, fascinated, as his daughter pulled two perfect sets of prints off of the evidence on the table. "Great job, honey," he told her with a proud smile. Concern quickly overtook Castle's features, though, as he realized a problem with their working theory. "But are these prints going to be of any use to us?"

Alexis turned to her father in confusion. "Why wouldn't they?"

"They're not *fingerprints*, or forensics would have been able to pick them up conventionally. It's great that we can verify that the prints match between the letter and the spear. But if there's no way that the prints are in the system, what good will that do us?"

"I have an idea about that," replied Alexis. She ran to the study and pulled a promotional copy of 'Frozen Heat' from the bookshelf, setting it down in the free space between the items on the dining room table. "Dad," she suggested, "I want you to erase this book...but just hold your hand *over* the cover, don't touch it."

Castle nodded, acknowledging his daughter's directions. Staring at the book, he cleared his mind to concentrate on the task at hand. The wizard held his hand an inch over the book, keeping it as steady as he could. The book glowed on the table as Castle carefully whispered his way through the spell.

It was over in a matter of seconds. Alexis didn't bother to verify that the book was wiped clean of its text; she had more important information to gather. "Kate?" she asked, "can you tell me what you see when you look at the book?"

Beckett focused on the energy surrounding the book. Instantly she saw everything she needed to know. "I can see his prints," she told the group.

"Are they a match to my dad's fingerprints?" asked Alexis.

Beckett pulled out a page of fingerprints she had copied at the station. "These are the prints we took when your dad was booked for riding naked on that horse..." She compared the prints to what she saw when she looked at the book. "They're a match."

Castle's eyes widened in surprise at Beckett's evaluation. "Really?" Beckett nodded again. "So the prints we got off the spear and the letter are legitimate sets?"

"As far as I can tell," replied Beckett.

* * *

**Don't forget to leave comments below! As always, I really want to hear what you think! :-)**


	9. Chapter 9

"We just got lucky."

Beckett's eyes widened as Ryan tossed an aging manilla file down on her desk. "Those prints were in the system?" she asked.

"I didn't say that," Ryan countered. "One of the...geekier guys in forensics apparently collects old sets of 'odd' fingerprints. He recognized the prints of our mysterious friend."

One eyebrow lifted in surprise, Beckett opened the file. "This file is from the 20s..."

"1926, to be exact." Castle and Esposito stood behind Beckett as she flipped through the file while Ryan continued his summary. "The prints belong to one Olga Kolontayev. She was a famous soprano for the Bolshoi Opera."

Esposito was confused. "Hold up, I thought the Bolshoi was a ballet company?"

"Ballet started through opera, not the other way around," replied Ryan. "Anyway, Ms. Kolontayev wanted to sing Fricka in 'Das Rheingold' but the Bolshoi at the time was only interested in performing in Russian. She was all set to defect and make her debut at the Met when she mysteriously disappeared..."

"Any theories as to why?" asked Castle. "I take it she didn't just change her mind and decide to stay in Russia?"

"Nope," agreed Ryan. "There were rumors floating around that she was romantically involved with the star baritone in the cast and that he was cheating on her, but there was no solid proof in the file."

Beckett was starting to put some of the disjointed puzzle pieces together. "That would explain the viciousness of the attack on Engebretsen, kind of a hell hath no fury thing."

"Ellis Island records do seem to indicate that she made it into the country," Ryan told them, "but she disappeared before she made it to the Met."

"So she's just been off the radar for almost 90 years?" Esposito asked in disbelief. "Are we sure she's not..." Esposito's question trailed off as Beckett flipped to a photograph of their subject. "That's her," he exclaimed, changing his tune almost immediately.

Ryan was taken aback by his partner's abrupt switch. "That's her? That's Stephanie's ghost?"

Esposito nodded. "I'm sure. She's a lot older, obviously, but it's definitely her."

"And does this look like anyone we know?" asked Castle, pulling a man's picture out of the file.

Beckett held the picture up to the picture of one of their victims on the murder board. "I'd say that confirms our theory about Engebretsen. For her, that one was clearly personal."

"And Hightower was probably because she knew Engebretsen would be called in to take his place," Ryan added.

"But then, why attack Alex Korotkin?" asked Castle. "And why target Stephanie?"

"Let's ask them," Beckett suggested to the group. "Ryan, you and Esposito go talk to Alex. Castle and I will track down Stephanie and see if the she recognizes anything we've found out this morning."

* * *

"So she's not a ghost?" Stephanie Frederickson stood up and paced her living room in nervous disbelief. "That...woman who's been following me all these years? She's *human*?!"

With the production temporarily suspended due to the police investigation, it wasn't hard to find the object of their suspect's twisted affection. Beckett and Castle found Stephanie holed up in her tiny studio apartment, apparently trying to seek some comfort in the arms of her old friend Jake Bradford. And neither of them were particularly happy to see the Guardians or to find out what the team had uncovered. "Does the name Olga Kolontayev mean anything to either of you?" asked Castle.

"No," Jake replied, shaking his head. "Should it?"

"We believe that to be the old woman's name," said Beckett.

Stephanie's mind was reeling, desperately trying to rationalize the new information she was being given with her own experiences. "But...but what about the bird? Th-th-that...that *thing* cannot possibly be human..."

"No," Castle explained, "the bird is most *definitely* a ghost."

Beckett explained, "We believe the bird to be a ghost taking the form of a legendary old Russian figure called a sirin. According to the legend, a sirin was a bird whose appearance and song were designed to lead someone to their death."

Stephanie looked relieved...but only slightly. "Oh good," she groaned sarcastically, "and here I was thinking you were just going to blow me off as crazy..."

Jake, though, was fixated on the second half of Beckett's description, and he cut Stephanie off to ask, "Wait a second, did you say the sirin leads someone to their *death*?"

Beckett nodded. "Your friend Alex Korotkin saw the sirin chewing on her wire just before she fell."

"Alex saw it?" asked Stephanie. "Then why isn't she dead?"

"And why isn't Stephanie dead, even though she's been seeing this...sirin for years?" asked Jake.

Beckett and Castle simply shrugged. "We were lucky to get to Alex in time. And as for Stephanie...we don't know," said Beckett.

"None of this makes any sense," insisted Stephanie. "That...woman *and* the sirin disappeared into thin air right in front of me. More than once. Now that is something that human beings can not do."

Beckett and Castle locked eyes in silent communication. _Now for the hard part..._thought Beckett. "Ms. Frederickson, while we now believe that Ms. Kolontayev is human, we do believe that she has some experience in manipulating the supernatural."

"That's why she can control the sirin?" Stephanie suggested.

Beckett nodded. "Ms. Frederickson, we believe that you are still the intended target here. Is there any way we could interest you in protection?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Police? What, you're going to post a squad car outside my apartment? Have a couple of uniforms stand guard in the hallway? Isn't that just going to put a gun in the hands of the witch who wants me dead?"

_Show time, _Castle projected through their link. "That wasn't the kind of protection we had in mind, Ms. Frederickson."

"Really?" drolled Stephanie. "What *did* you have in mind?"

Castle drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes to center his focus. He held his arm perpendicular to his body, his palm closed and relaxed.

When a bald eagle flew into the room from out of nowhere and landed comfortably on Castle's outstretched arm, Jake and Stephanie found it impossible to hide their amazement. The couple swarmed around the eagle, staring at the bird in amazement as it moved its head and flapped its wings. "How...how did you do that?"

Castle leaned back in the chair, a serenely confident smile plastered across his face. "Your 'ghost' isn't the only one who has some command over the supernatural, Ms. Frederickson."

Beckett pushed the point home. "Now can we talk about some protection for you, Ms. Fred..."

Eyes never leaving the eagle on Castle's arm, Stephanie raised a hand to cut off the last of Beckett's statement. "Please, just call me Stephanie. And tell me what you have in mind."

* * *

The sirin flew high above the tall buildings of the great city. Her master was quite angry with her, and with good reason. That woman should have died. Everything had been set up *perfectly*.

It was those warriors. It had to be. The ones with those brilliant, glowing auras. Victory had been in her claws...and they ripped it from her grasp at the very last moment. In her own way, she was just as angry as her master. She took great pride in her work. So to have such a triumph swept out from under her...

As much as she despised the expression, it was hard not to take the loss personally.

The sirin spent but a moment in her master's presence before taking flight to correct the grievous wrong done to them both. She flew the cavernous streets of Manhattan in a careful search pattern, not wanting to lose her prey again.

Finally the glow of her targeting beacon called to her in the distance. The sirin followed the sound, growing in confidence as she saw the auras laced with red. Her soul leapt with joy when she saw that she was chasing down not one aura, but two.

The sirin's joy only grew as she approached her targets. There...in the distance...two of the warriors were coming straight toward her, probably looking to meet up with her targets. As much as she wanted to eliminate all four of her problems at once, there were three other warriors still out there.

And they needed to be taught a lesson about meddling with an angel of death.

The sirin scanned the area, her mind working with furious speed to find just the right chain of events to achieve the desired outcome. It didn't take much: with so many metal horses traveling at unnatural speeds between the metal horseless chariots, all she had to do was distract the right horseman at exactly the right time.

Achieving the success that had previously been denied her thrilled the sirin to her very core. The metal horse flew through the intersection, launching its rider into the air until he met his end when his neck snapped against the metal pole that held up a glass torch. The distraction caused by such a spectacular event sent at least a dozen of the metal chariots careening into each other and into the crowds of people on the sidewalks. Two of the metal chariots pushed into a giant metal ark labeled "Express", turning it on its side and sending it careening out of control into the cornerstone of one of the giant stone buildings.

Crushed underneath the giant metal ark were the mangled bodies of the sirin's two targets: Bryce Parrish and Alex Korotkin.

And all the golden warriors could do was stand there and watch.

* * *

**Hi all! Yep, it's Thursday, not Monday. So why post early? Believe it or not, my reason to speed up the posting timeline again isn't that real life is letting me relax (it's not). It's not even a renewed surge of interest in this story. It's driven by the success of Power Play. It is my second most popular story to date, beaten only by the start to this series. And if I'm going to keep *all* of you happy I've got a lot more writing to do. :-D There will be three more chapters to this story and two more stories in the series. I'm going to *try* to keep to my schedule of posting a Guardian chapter every Monday, but if I can do more I will. And the more comments I get, the more motivated I will be to write...obviously. So don't forget to sign the guest book!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

The scene was horrific. The intersection of 55th Street and 7th Avenue looked like a war zone. Mangled cars were everywhere. The M5 Express bus was turned on its side, buried into the lobby of a nearby hotel. The injured were wandering through the street, filthy and bloodied, dazed and confused. Small fires were popping up on overturned vehicles even as the blare of a nearby fire company's engines could be heard just a few blocks away.

Ryan turned to Esposito to coordinate their strategy. "Those firemen are going to be stuck until enough traffic gets diverted. I'll help people get out of their cars, you help evacuate the bus?"

"Absolutely," replied Esposito, resolutely determined to help any way he could. Ryan took off toward the nearest car, Esposito only being briefly stopped by the ghostly Bengal tiger blocking his path. _My Lord, how may I serve?_

_Help the rescuers, _Esposito projected back to the cat, _save as many as you can._

_As you wish, my Lord. _

The tiger spirit exploded into a collection of floating orange balls, spreading out to collide with anyone who was even thinking about touching one of the wrecked cars. Doors started to fly open, crashing to the ground with a power that crunched metal even further and made it nearly impossible for anyone to verbally communicate with each other.

Some people, though, didn't need to talk to communicate. _How's it going? _Ryan projected through the mind-link. _Any luck finding Alex?_

_Not yet, _replied Esposito. _Been trying to get anybody with two good legs off this bus..._

_How's that going?_

_Most of the mobile are off now, _replied Esposito. _Going to clear out the most severely injured next. You?_

Ryan scanned the intersection, watching as orange-eyed heroes pulled person after person out of their cars, putting out fires where they could and helping the injured to places where they could wait safely for medical attention. _I don't see her..._

_I do, _Esposito cut off his partner, his mind-voice resonating with grave disappointment. _I just found them. They got run over by the bus._

Ryan didn't like the emotions his partner was pouring down the link. _They?_

_Alex *and* Bryce, _replied Esposito. _They're both dead._

Ryan sent a furious string of curses down the mind-link. _All of *this* just to kill two people? I'm getting a little tired of this witch and her damn bird..._

_I hear that, _Esposito chimed in sadly.

* * *

"Thanks," Beckett spoke grimly and quietly into the phone. "We'll see you guys back at the precinct."

Castle took one look at his partner's face and did not like her expression. "Beckett?" he asked, "What's happened?"

Beckett turned to the three people who were watching her with concern and focused on the two people who were going to be most devastated by the news she had to deliver. "There was a massive auto accident at 55th and 7th. Alex and Bryce were among the dozen or so people killed at the scene. I'm so sorry, Stephanie."

Jake helped Stephanie to sit down at her dining table and fight to recover some level of ability to function after the shock of the news. Stephanie quickly lost the battle, though, and collapsed into Jake's arms, overwhelmed with shock and grief.

Beckett and Castle pulled up chairs next to Stephanie, waiting patiently for the woman to get to the point where she could talk again. The shrill ring of a cell phone, though, caught everyone by surprise. Beckett and Castle locked eyes in silent communication. _Yours? _asked Beckett. Castle shook his head.

Jake moved the arm he had been holding around Stephanie when he recognized that the vibration and ring were from the cell phone belonging to him. Stephanie straightened up enough to be able to sit up on her own while Jake took his phone call. Beckett stretched her hearing just enough to hear both ends of the conversation...

_"Mr. Bradford?"  
_"Yes?"  
_"This is Mr. Vanderkellen's office." _Beckett noticed that the voice on the other end of the line was flat and devoid of all inflection. _"Dress rehearsal will be tomorrow at 3pm. Will you be able to come in by 11am?"  
_"Sure," replied Jake, confused.  
_"Excellent. See you then."_

Jake hung up the phone and announced his news to the group. "That was the opera house. They want to have dress rehearsal tomorrow."

Stephanie was in disbelief. "Now?" she exclaimed angrily. "After losing so many people they *still* want to go on with the show?!"

Jake shrugged in response. "It's opera, you know that, Steph. To them, we're just props on the stage."

Beckett noticed Jake's nonchalance and used it to her advantage. "Jake? What is it?"

"It's just..." Jake replied, clearly hesitant to speak up about his gut reaction, "it's just that they guy on the other end of the line sounded really weird. Like he wasn't..."

"Human?" Beckett filled in Jake's thoughts with her own observations. Jake nodded in agreement.

"We know that Stephanie is the sirin's primary target," declared Castle.

Beckett recognized the tone in her partner's voice. "Yeah..."

"So let's *use* that."

Beckett didn't need a mind-link to tell what her partner was thinking. "You want to use Stephanie as bait."

"We sit with her in the audience," agreed Castle. "I can protect her from anything the sirin can throw at me, and when Olga sees that she's not going to get through to Stephanie while I'm around..."

"She'll come after us."

Stephanie was surprised by the confident smile on Beckett's face. "That's a *good* thing?"

The smile that crossed Castle's matched the smile on the face of his girlfriend. "Absolutely."

* * *

Douglas Vanderkellen looked up at the expansive space between the opera house's floor to ceiling windows and the balconies where people were scheduled to arrive in just two short hours. He was starting to curse the day he ever accepted the job as general manager..."Let me get this straight, detectives. You know who's been killing my people?"

"Yes, sir, we do," replied Beckett.

"And you believe that they will make an attempt to kill Ms. Frederickson here during today's dress rehearsal?" Beckett nodded. "Then why shouldn't I just fire her now and move on with my show?"

"Because our killer will go after Jake Bradford to get to Stephanie," Ryan told him. "And since said killer likes to make a scene, then not only would Mr. Bradford end up dying very publicly on your stage...taking out any chance of continuing with your current production...but she could end up taking out several members of your audience along with him. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the orchestra level of dress rehearsals made up mostly of the friends and family of your major donors?"

Vanderkellen shifted his weight nervously between his feet. "And what's to say that that 'scene' wouldn't happen anyway?"

"Our plan includes protection for Ms. Frederickson, Mr. Bradford *and* your audience, sir," replied Beckett.

"*Discrete* protection, Detective Beckett? Those people in my orchestra level won't take too kindly to attending an opera under the watchful eye of an openly armed security force, of that much, I am quite sure..."

Castle couldn't help but notice how Vanderkellen's assistant seemed to be intently interested in the response to his boss' question. Keeping one eye on the assistant's reactions, Castle told the manager, "I can assure you, Mr. Vanderkellen, your audience will notice nothing out of the ordinary unless something goes wrong."

"God forbid." Vanderkellen sighed loudly, resigned to going along with whatever harebrained scheme the police officers in front of him had cooked up. "So what do you need from me, detectives?"

"Five seats in the front row of the Orchestra section," replied Beckett. "We'll take care of the rest."

* * *

Castle turned around, taking in the view of the house and the curtained stage from their seats. "One thing's for sure," the wizard grumbled, "no way are these the best seats in the house..."

"Focus, Castle," Beckett warned her boyfriend, "we're not here to watch the opera."

Castle nodded, accepting his team's lack of desire to keep things light-hearted. He refreshed the protection spell on both Stephanie and Jacob, then raised energy shields on the rest of the group.

"The show's going to start in a few minutes," said Ryan, "anything can happen after that. Stay alert."

"You really think she's going to wait to attack until after the opera starts?" asked Stephanie.

Esposito's expression darkened as his mind called up the memory of finding Alex Korotkin and Bryce Parrish, their bodies crudely severed at the waist by the bus that ran over them. "She wants to make a big production out of this, if her track record is any indication. Which means she wants an audience."

"And the largest audience you can get in the world of opera is right here," added Ryan. Stephanie nodded, trusting that her four-person team of bodyguards knew what they were doing.

Castle watched the chandeliers rise up to the ceiling as the audience took their seats and the lights dimmed. A quiet sobbing caught his attention as the overture began. He looked over to see Stephanie wiping tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "it's just that..."

"Shhhh..." Castle squeezed Stephanie's hand in a gesture he hoped the young woman would find reassuring as she grieved for her lost friends. "I understand." Stephanie smiled and squeezed Castle's hand in return as they watched the Rheinmaidens twirl on their wires and sing their quartet with Alberich.

Beckett listened to the conversation between her boyfriend and the woman they were charged with protecting with her own sad smile...until a faint cracking sound started to compete for her attention. She filtered out the music and started to carefully scan the area, hoping to find the source of the annoying sound before annoying became dangerous.

As Jake's opening measures as Wotan started onstage, Castle couldn't help but notice his partner's level of distraction. _Beckett? _he sent through their link, _What is it?_

_I'm hearing cracking, _Beckett replied. _Something around here is falling apart..._

_Is it onstage?_ asked Castle.

Beckett shook her head. _No, it's in the house somewhere..._

_Close, or far?_

_Far, _replied Beckett. _I think it might be above our heads..._

Castle followed his partner's line of sight to the ceiling. The chandeliers in the theater looked like small galaxies: a combination of lights, fragile crystals and long, sharp-looking metal rods. _Are *those* what you're hearing?_

_I think so, yeah. _The fear in Beckett's mind voice was clear and growing as the cracking from the ceiling grew louder and louder...until it stopped.

And twenty-one chandeliers broke away from the ceiling on a collision course with the unsuspecting audience below.

* * *

**Happy Guardian Monday! Two more chapters left after this one. :) So what do you think? Having fun so far? Leave your comments below!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

The screams started in the cheap seats. Of that much, Beckett was sure. The terror-filled roar came at them like the thunder following a lightning strike. A shiny, sparkly, spiked-metal bolt of lightning...

"OBTURATIO!"

Castle's commanding spell-voice halted the orchestra, stopped the performance, and froze the chandeliers just barely ten feet above their heads. People in the balconies above them were still screaming, certain that the inevitable tragedy had already occurred before their eyes. Their fellow opera-goers on the orchestra level, though, simply stared up at the chandeliers, silently dumbfounded. Some of the more curious types had their hands held high, trying to verify with their hands that their eyes weren't playing tricks on them. Most, though, were simply staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the sculptures that should have maimed or killed them.

Ryan knew that the panic going on above their heads could end up taking more lives than Castle's spell just saved...unless *he* did something about it. Ryan pulled his energy together and focused it on pouring as much peace as possible into the large auditorium...

*THUMP*

The entire theater fell into a peaceful near-silence. The singers onstage, the musicians in the orchestra pit, the conductor, the crew and every member of the audience...they were all fast asleep. Some, like the ushers, collapsed where they stood. A few of the older members of the audience were in a deep enough slumber to be quietly snoring.

Esposito found it impossible not to smile when he saw the results of his partner's peculiar gifts. "Dude, seriously...you really had to find a way to *encourage* people to fall asleep at the opera?"

Ryan rolled his eyes at that, but Castle had other problems on his mind. "Restituere," he whispered, sending the light fixtures back to the ceiling with a simple wave of his hand. The wizard scanned the audience as best he could, looking for any sign of movements that shouldn't otherwise be there. Their enemy was obviously nearby...and this, Castle knew, might be their only chance to stop her. And the last thing he needed to be worried about were unconscious innocent bystanders..."Sleepers need to be home in bed," the wizard said quietly.

And with another wave of Castle's hand, the theater emptied, leaving Jake, Stephanie, and the four Guardians alone near the orchestra pit. Jake jogged over to the edge of the stage, balancing carefully on the wall between the audience and the orchestra pit until he was able to drop down to the theater floor. "Is she here?"

"Only one way to find out," replied Castle. "Olga Kolontayev!" he called out with a power that echoed throughout the theater. "Show yourself!"

The shadows in one of the boxes above them seemed to shift as if parting for an unseen force. That force then moved slowly forward until he was finally visible to the group below him.

Ryan and Esposito stared at the man in disbelief. "Mr. VanVinderschlock," Esposito called up to the man standing above them, "I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to..."

"Espo," Beckett cut off the other detective, sensing something strange about the man standing above them. "He's not going to leave."

Esposito turned to his boss, confused. "Why not?"

Ryan focused on reading the mind of Vanderkellen's assistant, and quickly understood what Beckett was trying to tell them. "Bro, he isn't exactly a *he*..."

Martin VanVinderschlock stood at silent attention in the center of the box seats above them. Slowly, his face deformed and twisted as his body shrank, hunching over into the form of a pale, wrinkled, frail old woman. The woman then rose up in the box until her entire body could be seen above the railing, then floated effortlessly across the theater until she landed gently onstage. "YA zdesʹ", she said, gently announcing her presence to the only one she thought mattered: the wizard who had called her out.

"That's her," Beckett told them. Ryan and Esposito nodded in agreement.

Castle blinked the group onto the stage to face their opponent, then cast a universal translation spell to make sure everyone could understand each other. "You've gone to a lot of trouble to get our attention, Ms. Kolontayev. What do you want?"

"They are destroying the art I love," Olga replied. "Can you stop that?"

"I cannot," Castle replied. "Will you stop taking lives to attract attention to your cause?"

"I will not," said Olga.

"Then we are at an impasse," declared Castle.

Olga raised an eyebrow at her opponent. "An *impasse*? You think quite highly of yourself to think that you would be capable of standing in my way..."

"And you seem to be underestimating your opponent," Castle countered.

The witch laughed at her counterpart with a power that belied her frail-looking body. "You?! You who can't even face me on your own; you *dare* to consider us equals?"

"You don't work on your own," shrugged Castle. "Where is your sirin, anyway?"

Olga allowed herself a nearly toothless smile. "Ah, so you have heard of my pet? Very well, I shall formally introduce you..."

The sirin flew down from the catwalks above the stage, landing silently on the old witch's shoulder. A gentle, light, lyrically soprano voice floated from the bird. It was a sound designed to enchant, entrance, and mesmerize its victims...

Nothing.

The group in front of her never moved, never wavered, never lost focus even for a second. The witch gave a curt nod, acknowledging the success of her adversary's defenses. "Impressive. Not many can resist the charms of a sirin...unless..." Olga's cane echoed throughout the theater as she slowly approached the group, sizing up each person in turn. "One of you," she mused, "must possess the gifts of the mind..."

Ryan poured an extra stream of power into the mental shield he had created to complement Castle's physical shields. He said nothing, deferring to the wizard's chatty nature in the hopes that Castle would keep the woman's attentions focused on *him*, allowing Ryan to concentrate on blocking the witch's attempts to probe their minds.

Castle continued to carry the ball. "Interesting little tune your friend has, there," he called out in a mocking tone, "it's pretty, but where's the beat you can dance to? I'll have to give it a 42."

This infuriated the witch. She raised her hands to the 'sky', mouthing a silent incantation against the Guardians. The lower level of scaffolding fell to the ground with a giant crash, only glancing harmlessly off of Esposito's shield.

Castle simply waved his hand over the steel tubing, and with a quiet, "Restituere", the scaffolding disappeared, returning back to its position and purpose above the stage. The wizard continued to mock his opponent, prodding to learn her strengths and weaknesses at every opportunity. "Is that all you've got? Wow," he teased, eyebrows raises in a mock gesture of surprise, "I apparently overestimated you..."

The sirin launched itself from off of its master's shoulder. The Guardians watched the ghost bird fly through each of the Guardians in turn before soaring up to the rafters and out of the theater. It was only then that they realized that the sirin's flight was a decoy; a distraction to allow the witch to sneak around behind them,

wrap her hands around Jake's mouth,  
and disappear.

* * *

Stephanie was in a panic, screaming bitter, angry curses at Castle with tears streaming down her face. "I thought you said you could protect us! Mr. Castle, you said..."

"Shhhhhh..." said Beckett, cutting off the woman's tirade. It was clear that the hunter's mind was focused elsewhere, on a sound that only she could hear. "Castle, the spell," she whispered, "It worked." Beckett took off at a run for the backstage door, Ryan and Esposito following their partner's lead without a second thought.

Castle followed the other Guardians at a speed Stephanie could keep up with. The young singer started to calm down at the sight of the three cops taking action...mostly out of her own sense of confusion. "What's going on? What worked?"

"I put a tracking element into the spell I wrote to protect you guys. I had a feeling that the old hag would try something like this," Castle replied. "That's what Detective Beckett is following."

Stephanie nodded, taking the wizard's word on blind faith even as the three detectives seemed to have disappeared. "So you can follow Detective Beckett?"

Castle reached into the link with his beloved partner, knowing implicitly that Beckett was still hot on the witch's trail, using the ultra high-frequency beacon to track wherever Jake Bradford went. They were gaining ground on their prey by the second, and Castle knew it wouldn't be long before they caught up to her...which would give the wizard a chance to catch up. "Easily."

"Oh," Stephanie commented quietly, "good."

Castle could practically feel the tension radiating off of his charge, and squeezed her hand one more time, trying to impart some reassurance. "She can't hurt Jake without going through us first. I *promise* you, we'll get him back."

Stephanie nodded again, but by that point the wizard was no longer paying attention. Beckett's voice echoed through the mind-link along with a picture of a locked door to a room labeled 'Wardrobe'. _We found her. She took Jake behind *that* door._

_On our way, _Castle projected back before he grabbed Stephanie's hand and both of them vanished.

* * *

Beckett felt the presence of her partner fall in behind her as Ryan and Esposito flanked the door to the Wardrobe department. The count was silent, led by Beckett through the group mind-link. _3...2...1...Go!_

Castle removed the door with a wave of his hand across his chest, hoping to preserve the potential element of surprise. That hope, though, quickly proved futile; the old witch had not been looking to escape from the Guardians.

She had been setting a trap.

Stephanie looked up to discover Jake suspended above them, attached to the ceiling from a long metal chain. He was stretched to his body's limit, each arm and each leg attached to the second and third story of opposing clothes storage carousels in the giant room. She wheeled around and buried her head in Castle's chest, unable to stand the sight of her friend in pain.

The determined detectives entered the room cautiously, stopping only when the carousels jumped to life after they took just two small steps into the room.

A disembodied voice echoed through the room. "Do not come closer," Olga told them, "or Wotan will be pulled apart in front of you."

"Descende," Castle whispered, focusing all of his energy on the man suspended in front of him. "Descende..."

Jake cried out in pain as the chain around his waist began to slowly tighten. "The chain in the ceiling is enchanted, wizard. If it feels a magic other than my own, it will start to squeeze the life out of him."

Rendered powerless, Castle felt the young woman who was wrapped around him squeeze him tightly...before pushing away from his embrace to face the woman who had been 'haunting' her for almost a decade. "Face us, you *witch*!" she spat out angrily. Olga emerged from behind the revolving clothes racks, which motivated Stephanie to push her friend's luck. "What do you want from me?!"

"You," replied Olga.

The witch's response took Stephanie by surprise. "What?"

"I want you, child. Your life. Your voice. The chance to be young again."

Jake was horrified by the witch's demands. "Don't let her, Steph! No! Don't do it!"

Stephanie looked up at her friend, wiping the tears from her eyes as the decision, she felt, was almost made for her. "Will you let my friend go?" she asked quietly.

"Immediately," Olga replied, her conviction simple but firm.

Stephanie drew in a quiet, shaky breath, letting it out slowly to steel her resolve. "Then let's do this."

"NO!" Jake screamed, horrified by his friend's decision. He thrashed at his bindings even as the chain around his waist fell away. "STEPHANIE! NO!"

The two women below Jake never heard his screams. Olga and Stephanie started to rise slowly into the air. The witch's eyes started to glow as a bluish-grey mist float from her mouth.

Ryan watched the exchange between the two women, understanding the motivation behind Stephanie's decision, but horrified that the young woman felt like the only way she could save her friend's life was to sacrifice her own. A memory rose to the front of his mind. _"you can't affect the free will of others. Kevin might be able to..." _Inspiration struck as he watched an arc of light erupted between the two women. He focused all of his energy on reaching deep into Stephanie's mind...

And the witch, the singer, and the Guardian all collapsed to the floor, lost to the world around them.

* * *

Ryan's awareness returned to the feel of fresh earth underneath him and the medicinal smell of a pine forest. As he pushed himself to a standing position, he discovered that they were in a small clearing ringed with torches to give some light in contrast to the black, cloudless sky overhead. Stephanie was still collapsed in a heap on the ground across the clearing from where Ryan had awakened, and he ran over to check on him, grateful that, even in this strange clearing, he still had the physical speed of the blessing. "Steph," he whispered, "wake up. Are you okay?"

"She can not hear you," a woman's voice called to him. "She will awaken only when there is a victor between us...and the other is dead."

Ryan stood to confront his opponent, striding cautiously to the center of the clearing in order to stay as far away from Stephanie as possible in order to keep her out of danger. "So," the woman stated in a quiet voice thick with a Russian accent, "*you* are the one."

Recognition flickered at the edge of Ryan's awareness as his memories returned to him. The wardrobe room. Jake, caught in a trap. Stephanie's sacrifice, and his 'hail Mary' pass to try to save her. And, most importantly, the old woman. The witch who wanted to take Stephanie's life for herself.

The witch was now standing opposite him, looking almost a century younger than she had in the physical world. "I hope you don't mind me saying so," Ryan teased his opponent, "but you didn't age well."

Olga ignored the taunt. "You are an odd one," she commented. "You carry yourself with the power and grace of an old master...yet it is clear even now that you do not understand what you've done."

"Enlighten me," countered Ryan, his voice dripping with confidence and sarcasm.

"Only one consciousness can exist in a body at a time. The young woman who holds claim to this body has relinquished her rights to me," Olga explained with an arrogant curtsy. "But now that you're here...only one of us can remain. And it isn't going to be her."

Righteous fury consumed Ryan's emotions as he thought of the possibility of losing. "We'll see about that," he growled, crossing the space between himself and his opponent with lightning speed.

The witch waved her hand, sending a rock flying at Ryan's head with the speed of a bullet.

An electric tentacle reached in front of Ryan's face, stopping the rock before it vanished. It took only a flash of a thought for Ryan to recognize the tentacle for what it was: in this battlefield of the mind, his wild, electric aura was not only visible, it was a tangible extension of his body.

Which meant that he could use it as a weapon.

Ryan reached out to his opponent, determined to pull Stephanie's consciousness out of the witch any way he could. Olga continued to try to lash out at him with rocks, sticks, boulders...anything she saw around her. Ryan simply stretched the base of his aura around him like one of Castle's energy shield, bouncing the projectiles off of the shield the way that bullets flew off his shield in the physical world.

When the witch saw that her plan was failing, she grew desperate, pulling a torch out of the ground and using it to draw a circle of protective fire around her.

Ryan let his aura explode in a flash of blinding light, extinguishing the 'fire' and knocking the witch to the ground. He then lifted the witch's weakening spirit up off the ground with the tentacles of his aura, stretching her out in a pose not dissimilar to the one she used to hold Jake captive in the physical world. "Stephanie's not dead," Ryan spat out, "or *she* wouldn't be here. So where is she?"

"She and I are one," Olga replied weakly. "You kill me, you kill her."

"Wrong. Answer." Ryan didn't buy the witch's attempt at deception for a second, and set his mind toward reaching into Olga's mind to find Stephanie. Two of his aura's feelers drilled into the witch's skull, causing her to cry out in pain. "I'll only ask you this one more time. Where. Is. She?"

"I believe the American expression," Olga replied through a pained expression, "is go to hell."

"You first," growled Ryan. His aura drilled into every inch of the witch's body before finally ripping it apart in a blinding flash of light.

* * *

Ryan re-awakened not to the dirt floor of a pine-filled forest, but to the hard concrete floor of the opera house. He groaned when he realized he must have hit his head as he collapsed. Two pairs of hands were instantly behind his own, helping him up to a seated position. Squinting to re-adjust to the fluorescent lighting, it took him only a moment to recognize his helpers to be his partners, Beckett and Esposito. "What happened?" he asked with a groan.

"You tell us, bro," replied Esposito. "Stephanie surrendered herself to the witch, and then the three of you just collapsed..."

Memories flooded Ryan's mind, and he was quickly overwhelmed by one primary thought. "Stephanie..."

Ryan forced himself to a standing position and raced over to the girl, making it to her side just as she was regaining consciousness. The relief that flooded the detective's emotions became a palpable wave of good tidings throughout the room as everybody finally started to relax.

Stephanie blinked and squinted, re-adjusting slowly to the artificial lighting as she looked up into the eyes of the man who had saved her life. "Detective...Ryan, right?" At Ryan's nod, Stephanie continued, "you were...you were *in my head*, weren't you?" Blushing slightly, Ryan nodded again, which left Stephanie with a question. "But, what about...?"

Ryan knew exactly who she was talking about...as did his partner. Esposito stopped Ryan from getting up a second time, jogging over to the collapsed form of Olga Kolontayev to check for a pulse. It was only one tense moment before he stood up and announced to the group, "she's dead."

Stephanie took that good news as encouragement to push herself up to a seated position with Jake and Ryan's help. "Not that I'm not grateful," Stephanie said with a smile, "but how'd she finally kick after all of that?"

An image flashed in Stephanie's mind that was powerful enough to lose her sense of where she was...a fact that Jake noticed immediately. "Steph? What is it?"

Stephanie was shaking her head, trying to get her disoriented mind to re-focus on the present. "Oh? Sorry, Jake, I...I must have hit my head a little harder than I thought..."

_Ask the kid what she saw, _echoed Mike Royce's voice in Beckett's mind.

Beckett immediately did as she was told. "What did you see, Stephanie?"

"It was...it was the witch, only about 80 years younger than she was today," replied Stephanie. "She was in the middle of a forest, and she had these...these ropes of light that were digging into her everywhere. They...they ripped her apart. That's what killed her." Stephanie then wheeled around and immediately turned on her friend. "I have *not* lost my mind, Jake! *That's* what happened to her, I'm sure of it. Don't ask me how I know, I. Just. Know."

Jake stared at his friend, horrified. "Steph, I didn't say anything..."

Stephanie quickly turned back to Ryan. "You...you were in my head again, weren't you, just now? You were..." Stephanie's eyes widened as she realized what she had seen and what it meant. "What I saw...you did that, didn't you? When you were in my head?"

Ryan quietly nodded. "The thing is, though, Stephanie...when I explained the memory you saw, I wasn't in your head that time. I deliberately kept those thoughts to myself. *You* were the one who was reading *my* thoughts."

Stephanie's eyes widened in shock...a look that was imitated by everyone else in the room. "I-I *what*?!" exclaimed Stephanie.

A charge of excitement went through Ryan's whole being as he pulled Stephanie up to a standing position. "Come on," he told the young woman with a knowing smile and a terrible Yoda impersonation, "much there is need you to know, young Jedi..."

* * *

**Hi all! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it was a long one. One more chapter (the scene I know some of you have been waiting for), then this one goes in the complete column. :D Got a busy weekend planned, so I hope it will be up by Monday, but I can't be 100% sure that will happen this time. Sorry, gang...anyway, leave your comments below! **


	12. Chapter 12

The Old Haunt was awash in a sea of...pink.

The small bar was packed with people, but none of them were paying for their own drinks that day. Cops from the 12th precinct were mingling freely with the guest of honor's co-workers and her large Irish family, everyone grateful for the opportunity to relax and enjoy the free (and freely flowing) food and drinks. Jenny Ryan was seated in a specially designed 'barstool of honor', giving all of the well-wishers every chance they needed to hug her, congratulate her, and (more than Jenny would have liked) rub her pregnant belly 'for luck'.

Ryan worked the room with enthusiasm, joking with his friends, graciously accepting congratulations from the friends of his wife, and generally making sure every one was happy, well-fed and enjoying themselves. And while a part of his mind was always with his wife, making sure *she* was especially enjoying the party being thrown in their honor, there was a part of his mind that was occupied by another, slightly younger woman.

For this woman, the night wasn't about enjoying herself; it was also the final exam in what Ryan had liked to call 'Telepathy 101, crash course edition'. _How're you holding up, Steph? _he projected into the mind of his protégé.

At the far end of the bar Stephanie Frederickson took a sip of her club soda, nervously twirling the swizzle stick around the glass. She pushed the limits of her concentration to filter out the random thoughts of the people around her until she was, finally, only able to hear the strong, clear thoughts of her new teacher and friend. _You were right about one thing, Kevin. This is a lot harder that I thought it was going to be._

_Have you been able to manage a physical conversation with anyone yet? _asked Ryan.

_You mean with anyone besides you? _Stephanie teased through the mind-link. _Not yet. Still fighting to keep everybody's thoughts *out* of my head for more than a few minutes..._

_Just keep working at it, _Ryan reassured her, _it *does* get easier over time._

_Feels like I'm trying to juggle while balancing on one leg, _Stephanie grumbled.

Ryan tried his best to be reassuring. _You're doing a hell of a lot better than I was two days in._

_That's because I don't have even half the power you do, _Stephanie insisted. _I still don't see how you didn't lose your mind when this happened to you..._

Ryan had to resist the urge to smile in the physical conversation he was having. _I had a lot of help from my friends..._

Stephanie caught the whispers of now-familiar thoughts at the edges of her mind. _They're here, by the way._

Finally with a rare moment to himself, Ryan fount it impossible *not* to smile, sending a wave of encouragement down the mind-link. While he had recognized the approach of his friends a few moments earlier, he knew that it was a major accomplishment for her to recognize the other Guardians at the very edges of her range and through the cacophony of mental noise she was dealing with. _Thanks. You remember how to get to the office if you need a break?_

Stephanie nodded, then stopped herself when she remembered the gesture didn't translate through the link with her teacher. _Yeah, I remember._

_Make sure you use it when you need to, _Ryan warned. _Your controls..._

_Will get shot to hell if I get too tired, _Stephanie completed Ryan's thought for him. _That's like, what, the *second* thing you ever taught me? Go say hi to the gang for me. I'll be *fine*._

Ryan dialed down the link with his student and made his way through the crowd until he was close enough to his wife to massage her sore shoulders. Jenny groaned with relief, leaning into her husband's hands and allowing the feel of his presence to give her a second wind. "Whoever you are, just keep doing what you're doing," she teased, "that feels soooooo good...but don't let my husband catch you or he just might rip your heart out."

Ryan stopped the massage and wrapped his arms around his wife from behind. "In that case," he whispered teasingly in her ear, "we'll just keep it our little secret..." Jenny turned to plant a quick kiss on her husband's cheek, and he smiled, coming around to talk to her face-to-face and hold one of her hands in his own. "Thank you for all your help with Stephanie this week," he told her.

Jenny squeezed her husband's hand in response. "After going on maternity leave, it was nice to have the company," she said. "And it was nice to do a little to make up for how I was such a jerk to you in the beginning..."

Ryan stopped his wife's self-depreciating comments quickly. "Hey, it's not like I was completely open with you, either...anyway, I'm glad all that drama is behind us."

"Here, here," Jenny agreed with a smile, leaning in to accept a gentle kiss from her husband.

The kiss elicited a teasing "awwww..." from their closest friends coming into the bar behind them. "Look at them, Javi," Lanie teased, "still all lovey-dovey after all those years of married life..."

"Now, now," Castle chimed in, continuing the teasing, "let them enjoy it while it lasts, because once the baby comes they'll be *dreaming* about days like this..." The comment earned him two punches in the arm: the punch he expected from his daughter and a surprisingly hard slug from his girlfriend that he made a mental note to ask about later.

Jenny let the teasing die down and Castle's wounded pride heal slightly before greeting her friends. "I can't thank you enough for this shower, Rick," she gushed, "it's been the most incredible day..."

Castle waived off the couple's thanks. "It's no trouble at all. Besides, when I think of the plans Kate has in mind for Lanie and Esposito's engagement party, I figured my employees needed a dry run, so they'd know what to expect and I'd know how many more people I'd need to hire." Ryan chuckled, shaking his head in amazement that his friend could consider a bar full of cops and two Irish families a 'dry run'.

Beckett smiled, knowing how much Castle loved lavishing attention on his friends and family without having to worry about the price tag. "You think the engagement party's going to be big," she teased, "just wait until the bachelorette party..."

"Man, I hope I'm *ready* for that kind of partying," Jenny commented hesitantly, "I can't think much beyond getting this bowling ball out of me right now..."

"You'll be *fine*," Lanie assured the nervous mom-to-be. "Now, your husband on the other hand..."

Ryan accepted the teasing in stride. "I'm always ready for that kind of partying...seriously, though, we've gotten more than enough offers of help. We'll be fine."

The teasing about people needing help reminded Alexis of something...or rather, someone. "Speaking of help," she asked Ryan, "how's Stephanie doing?"

"Really well," Ryan replied. "She caught on a lot faster than I did."

"But from what you told me, you had a lot more to learn..." chimed in Jenny.

Alexis' curiosity was fully piqued. "Really?" she asked, glad that the loud music would mask their conversation, "She doesn't have the same abilities that you do?"

Ryan shook his head. "Strictly reading only. No projection, no emotions. Once she can control the thoughts going through her head she'll be just fine."

Lanie was starting to get confused. "Wait a second, Stephanie's...like you now?" she asked Ryan. When Ryan nodded back, Lanie felt like she had to pick her jaw up off the floor. "How the hell did this happen?"

"Stephanie is a latent...or rather, she *was* a latent," a familiar voice chimed in behind them. When he realized he had the group's attention, Mike Royce continued, "That's why the old witch targeted her."

_What's a latent? _asked Beckett.

Royce began the full explanation. "Some people are born with the latent genetic potential to develop gifts like what you guys have."

Ryan and Castle both nodded, catching on right away. _The journals mentioned something like that, _Castle chimed in. _The monastery was always training kids to be ready if something happened to the Guardians..._

"Those kids would all have been latents. You guys were, too," Mike agreed. "That's why you were 'picked' to be the new Guardians. Having five of the right type of latents find each other was more than just a coincidence...anyway, if the ghost who explained this to me had his facts straight, a latent comes into their abilities only after being exposed to a whole hell of a lot of magic energy..."

Castle and Ryan both widened their eyes, for different reasons, as puzzle pieces started falling into place. _The 'ball lightning' that wrecked my apartment...*that's* what that was? _asked Castle.

When Royce nodded, Ryan spoke up, _And when I ripped apart that old witch's spirit inside Stephanie's head..._

"It was more than enough energy for her abilities to kick in," said Royce.

Ryan's face fell as his thoughts and emotions were flooded with guilt for how the battle went down. Jenny was about to speak up to try to cheer up her husband, when another woman's presence stopped her.

Stephanie had forced her way through the crowded bar like a woman on a mission. And when she reached her target, she pulled him away from his wife and gave him a painfully hard smack across the face.

Ryan was so shocked it knocked him out of his mind-link with his wife, Alexis and the rest of the Guardians. "What the hell was that for?" he exclaimed.

Stephanie tapped the side of her head, indicating that her teacher needed to re-start the mind link. Once the connections were established, the young woman's voice, at first, was all Ryan was able to hear. _I caught the end of that crap you were thinking, Teach, _thought Stephanie, _and you can just knock that off *right* *now*. In case you've forgotten, I had given up. I was going to lay down and let that...that old bag kill me if it could stop her from killing Jake. You. Saved. My. Life. Jake's too, probably. There's no possible way either of those things could ever be bad in my book..._

Ryan finally smiled, letting his student's words sink in and start to absolve him of his guilt. _And everything else that came with it?_

_Oh, now that's stuff's just a bonus, _Stephanie replied with a broad grin. _Seriously...you know how many times I've lost sleep coming out of an audition because I had no idea whether or not I did well? That's one problem I'll never have again..._

Guilt finally gone, Ryan gave his student an affectionate hug, and opened the mind-link back up to the rest of the group...now including Stephanie. _Thanks, kid, _Ryan projected into the mind-link for the group to hear, _I needed that._

_"_Wow," Jenny exclaimed, "if that's all it took to knock some sense into my husband, Steph, you are going to *have* to teach me how you do that..."

"I thought all Irish women knew how to throw a punch?" Stephanie teased.

"Oh, I can throw a punch just fine," replied Jenny, "but that doesn't have nearly the affect on him that that slap did..."

Ryan and Stephanie exchanged a knowing look between them, then burst out laughing. It was then that, out of the corner of her eye, Stephanie noticed who else was in the conversation. "Mr. Royce?" Stephanie gasped out, "I thought you were..."

_He is, Steph, _Ryan projected into her mind the answer to her question, _the mind-link allows all of us to see him._

_Because Detective Beckett can speak to the dead, _replied Stephanie, fighting to remember which ability belonged to who, _and the mind-link allows us to share what she sees and hears?_

_Exactly, _Ryan replied.

_So have you been here this whole time, Mr. Royce? _asked Stephanie.

Royce nodded. "I wanted to talk to you about that...now that I can. I know I didn't believe you when we first met, Stephanie, and that put you and your friends at risk. I didn't really know how wrong I was until I was on, well, this side of dead. Is there any way you can forgive me?"

Stephanie thought about the ghost's request in the context of the company they were both now keeping. _Are you the one who brought Kevin and his friends in to help me, Mr. Royce?_

Beckett and Royce both nodded. _Mike was my old training officer, Stephanie, _Beckett replied on Royce's behalf, _so when he figured out how bad your situation really was, he came and talked to me._

Stephanie seemed to consider Beckett's response carefully. _I lost several good friends to that witch, _Stephanie began, _but if you hadn't done what you did, then I would be dead, and so would Jake and probably a whole lot of other people as well...so thank you, Mr. Royce. And I forgive you._

Royce relaxed immediately. "Thank you, Stephanie." A tug at the edge of his consciousness told Royce that his time was growing short. "Now if you guys will excuse me, I need to talk to Beckett about something. Castle, is it okay if we use the office?"

Castle nodded, and the rest of the group closed in to other topics of conversation while Beckett headed downstairs to the owner's office. Closing the door behind her, she turned around and joined her old friend, who was already waiting for her. "Okay Mike, asked Beckett, "what's going on?"

"I don't have much time left, Kate," Royce replied. "Now that the witch is dead and Stephanie and her friends are safe...anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for everything you guys did for her. It means a lot to me."

Beckett finally put two and two together, discovering the answer to a question that had been in the back of her mind since Royce first approached them. "Steph's your daughter, isn't she, Mike?" Eyes wet with unshod tears, Royce nodded. "Why didn't you want her to know that?"

"Her mom left me when she was a toddler. She has *zero* memory of me. Why should I give her a father she's never had only to take him away from her five minutes later?"

"And why couldn't you trust me to make that call for myself?"

Beckett turned to see Stephanie standing at the entrance to the office. At Beckett and Royce's similar expressions of confusion, Stephanie continued, "I read minds, now, Detective Beckett. Your partner taught me everything I know. Picking up on who you're seeing and hearing isn't terribly hard. Now it's my turn." She focused her attention on Royce. "Are you my father?"

"Yes," Royce replied.

"Did you know that when we first met?"

"Yeah," replied Royce, fighting back tears. "I knew."

"Why didn't you tell me then?"

Royce sighed, hesitating. It was clear he didn't want to talk about the subject he was about to bring up. "Your mother. She...she asked me not to."

"And when Mom died last year..." The shocked look on her father's face told Stephanie all she needed to know. "You didn't know she passed away, did you?"

Royce shook his head. "No. I didn't."

It had become Stephanie's turn to be confused. "But, I thought..."

Royce had a pretty good idea what Stephanie was thinking. "It's possible that our paths just never crossed. I haven't met a lot of other ghosts since I died. It's possible that she was avoiding me...*that* was very much your mother's style." Royce's tone quickly turned sincere, though, when he told her, "But more than likely, she just crossed over as soon as she died."

Stephanie soon found that she was fighting back her own tears. "You think so?"

"Yeah."

Stephanie smiled through her tears as she remembered her mother. The memory brought up one last question in her mind. "Why didn't you fight her on this? If you knew I was out there, why didn't you try to contact me?"

Royce's expression was consumed by love and regret. "I...wasn't a good man when I was alive, Steph. Beckett here can tell you. I figured you...you were better off without me."

Beckett couldn't stand to watch the conversation between Stephanie and Royce any more without stepping in. "Bull."

Royce was taken aback by his former partner's statement. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Mike, you made mistakes. You were human. That doesn't mean you couldn't have been a good father. My mother wasn't always perfect. She was human, just like you. And you, of all people, know that I would give anything for five more minutes with her. No kid should ever have to be in that position. Least of all by choice."

The tug on Royce's consciousness grew more insistent. He ignored it. "You're right, Kate. I see that now. But what can I do about it? Steph is safe, you're safe. There's nothing for me to *do* here anymore. It's my time."

"You can do one more thing," said Beckett. "You can do the one thing my mother didn't get to do for me. You can say goodbye to your daughter."

Royce nodded, understanding and accepting his old partner's advice. He turned to face Stephanie as a pinpoint of blinding white light appeared behind him. "I wish I could have more time with you, you know. I wish I could make up for all the time we've missed..."

"Me too, dad," Stephanie agreed. "Me too."

"Still," Royce insisted, "I couldn't be more proud of you."

Stephanie smiled even as she started to cry. "Thank you for...for letting me know I had a father who cared about me. I never knew that...until today."

"Aw, Steph..." Royce commented sadly. "I loved you from the minute I first held you in my arms..."

Stephanie stepped forward, moving her hand until it was just above where Royce's hand was floating. Figuring she would take what she would get, Stephanie moved her hand down toward her father's...

...and was stopped by cold, but solid flesh. Gasping even as the tears streamed down her face, Stephanie turned around to see Castle standing in the entrance to the office. "You guys were gone a long time," Castle said, knowing what the growing light behind Royce meant. "And when I overheard what Mike told you, I couldn't resist. But it won't last more than a few minutes."

Royce wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He pulled his daughter close and gathered her up in one last embrace. Father and daughter cried in each other's arms as the light around them grew brighter. "Thank you, Castle..." Royce whispered. Knowing his time had finally come, Royce pulled away from his daughter's embrace and moved toward the light.

Just before he disappeared, though, Michael Royce had one last thing to tell his his old partner. "You were like another daughter to me, Kate. More than you'll ever know. And there's one last thing I can give you before I go..."

"I hope you enjoy your five minutes, Kate."

* * *

**Wow, this scene got away from me! I know I promised the scene *everyone's* expecting in a ghost story about Beckett, but after I got sidetracked with resolving everything between Royce and Stephanie, this became a long enough chapter on its own. So, i figured I'd post what I had so this chapter didn't get *ridiculously* long. Was it worth it, or should I have waited until I finished the rest of the epilogue? Let me know in your comments! **


	13. Epilogue

The spirit of Mike Royce was consumed by the white light, disappearing as the light itself imploded. Stephanie stared at the space where her father had been standing just a moment earlier...and at the woman who was now standing in front of her. Long brown hair, warm brown eyes-the resemblance was uncanny. And Stephanie knew she was standing in the way of their reunion. She turned around to face Beckett with a sad, affectionate smile and excused herself. "I'll just get out of your way..."

Kate Beckett barely heard her. Her focus was entirely on the woman on the other side of the room. A very familiar woman she thought she would never see again. Kate found she was having trouble getting her voice to work. Remembering one of the first things Mike's ghost taught her, Beckett switched to her mind-voice. _Mom? _

"Hi Katie-girl." The ghost of Joanna Beckett stood quietly, studying her mature, adult daughter. "It's been a while."

_A while..._Kate was grateful that Royce's descriptions of how time passed for him were so close to the front of her mind. _Yeah. A long time. _

"How have you been?" asked Joanna, her voice starting to choke up as her daughter's had.

Kate found it impossible to answer her mother's question. What could she say? That the obsession with finding her killer nearly sent her to her own death...but that she was okay now, because she's keeping the guy at arm's length with a bluff about a non-existent file?

Joanna regarded her daughter with a loving mother's patience. She crossed the room silently, lifting her hand in a gesture that mimicked caressing her daughter's cheek. "Oh, sweetheart..." she sighed, "I've put you through so much..."

Kate stared at her mother in disbelief. _You?_

Joanna nodded. "I let the Pulgatti case become my obsession. Put your father through hell..."

_He never told me, _Kate admitted.

"I would have been surprised if he had," said Joanna. "It's not your father's style."

An uncomfortable silence descended between them. _Did dad ever...did dad ever help you with the case... _

"The way that man over there has helped you?" Joanna replied to her daughter's unfinished question with a knowing smile.

It took Kate a second to realize that her boyfriend was still standing in the doorway. She motioned over to the wizard, who crossed the room and squeezed Kate's hand for support. _Mom, _she began, _this...this is my partner, Richard Castle. _

"I know," Joanna said with a smile. "I introduced you to his books, remember?" The ghost turned her attention to the man next to her daughter. "Joanna Beckett."

Castle had to stifle a chuckle. He had stared at pictures of Joanna Beckett so often he knew it would have been impossible for him to *not* recognize the woman. "Nice to finally meet you, ma'am."

"Please, call me Joanna," the ghost told him.

There was only one question going through Kate's finding enough of her voice to talk out loud, she asked "Mom, why are you here? Is it about..."

"The men who killed me?" Joanna asked in response. "No. Sweetheart, I moved on almost as soon as you..."

_As soon as I killed him,_ thought Kate. She quickly caught on to the first part of her mother's statement. "You moved on, mom? I thought that meant..."

"That we couldn't meet like this? Normally, we wouldn't be able to. When I found out about...about your new 'gift', I must've waited on that line for..."

"A *line*?" Kate was dumbfounded. "There's a line...up there...to see *me*?!"

"You have no idea," replied Joanna, rolling her eyes. "I think I must have been on that line for weeks before they realized I'm your mother..."

Kate was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that there was a waiting list for ghosts who wanted to see her. "Why?"

"Think about it, Kate," chimed in Castle, "think about the number of people who die without getting the chance to tie up loose ends. Without getting to say goodbye to their loved ones. If there wasn't some sort of control over the number of ghosts that get through to you, you'd be mobbed. All the time."

"I was able to come through because I agreed to give you a message," Joanna declared. "Actually, I'm supposed to give this message to both of you. Something is coming. It's big, it's dangerous, and if isn't stopped the world will never be the same. But the *only* way you will be able to defeat it is if you stop hiding from each other."

Joanna watched as Kate and her boyfriend started to study each other, each wondering what secrets the other person had been keeping from them. The ghost was finding it a very frustrating experience. "Dammit!" she exclaimed, "Why do you think that link grew between the two of you in the first place?! Rick, you need to stop keeping secrets from my daughter."

Kate was confused...and starting to get angry. "What secrets are you keeping from me, Rick? After everything we've gone through?"

Castle's eyes shifted away from Kate's intense gaze, like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "The file..." he mumbled.

Kate was, once again, grateful for her superhearing. "What file, Rick?" Her eyes widened as she realized what was the only file Castle would have any trouble talking about in front of her mother. "The file that Captain Montgomery sent to Smith? The file that got blown to bits in the safe? It's gone, isn't it?"

Castle stared down his partner with a look that she found sadly familiar. It was the same look she remembered facing the night Castle admitted he had been working with Smith to protect her from Bracken and his power. "It's not gone. I have it. Have had it for a while."

Kate was fighting a losing battle to keep her emotions under control. "You *have* it? How?" Another wild realization hit her. "You put it back together, didn't you? Using magic?"

Castle nodded. "It'll stand up if you have to show the file to Bracken or any of his cronies, but if a newspaper tries to verify it's not a fake, I...I can't be sure of that."

"But what about the *information* in that file, Rick?" Kate spat out, clearly fuming. "We don't know if Bracken's the only one running things. Did you just restore the file and stick it in a safe somewhere? Or do you know other things you're not telling me?"

Joanna could feel where this was heading just from the emotions radiating off her angry daughter. "Katharine Beckett, if you run off without your team again I swear I'll come back just to haunt you for the rest of your very long lifetime. Is. That. Clear?"

Kate turned her stare on Joanna, shocked by her mother's chastisement. "What?"

"Now I know *you*, of all people, heard me clearly the first time," Joanna replied. "Need I remind you where you ended up after going off half-cocked because Rick was keeping secrets from you?"

Kate's face fell as she considered her mother's words. "I ended up hanging off a roof by my fingertips," she admitted guiltily.

"*Exactly.*" Joanna's face softened as she realized her message was getting through. "Katie, I hope you know that I'm proud of you. You've grown into a strong, smart, and fiercely compassionate woman who's surrounded herself with the best of people. People who *all* love you dearly. And people try to protect the people that they love. Some of them might go about it the wrong way," she said, glaring at Castle, "but that doesn't mean they don't love you any less. Honey, you need to let them love you and stop pushing them away. If you don't, then you'll be *lucky* if the only thing they do is keep secrets from you. Do you understand?"

Kate nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Joanna came forward, wanting to reassure her daughter. She moved her hand forward toward her daughter's, not remembering or caring that her hand was likely to go straight through.

Kate gasped as her mother's hand became flesh and rested gently on top of her own. She smiled, shaking her head as she stared at the supernaturally physical connection, realizing that it was just another example of how much Rick Castle loved her...even when she was trying to push him away.

She also knew that the touch meant her time with her mother's spirit was growing short. "You know, I wouldn't mind if you haunted me the rest of my life," Kate said quietly.

Joanna smiled, savoring the chance to touch her daughter one last time. "Sure, you say that now," she teased, "but how would you feel if I showed up when you and Rick were in bed tog..."

"Okay, mom, you've made your point," Kate cut her mother off, trying to keep that image from cementing itself in her mind. She pulled her mom into an embrace, finally allowing the tears to flow freely as the emotion of the moment ran through her uncontrolled. "I miss you so much, mom..."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," said Joanna, squeezing her daughter before pulling away from the embrace. She felt a necklace underneath her daughter's clothing, and, curiosity getting the better of her, Joanna pulled the chain out into the open to find her engagement ring hanging from it.

Kate smiled as she watched her mother's hand holding the ring, still strung on the chain. "I wear this necklace every day," she said. "It's been my way of keeping you close."

"Oh honey," Joanna sighed, "I'll always be with you." She placed a hand over her daughter's heart. "Right here."

Kate pulled her mom into one last embrace, feeling the change in her mother's skin that meant the spell was giving out...and her mother would soon be gone once again. "I love you so much, mom..."

"I love you too, honey," Joanna's voice whispered as her spirit faded away. "Always."

* * *

**Hi everyone! Just a quick heads up for anyone who hasn't visited my author page lately. I live in one of the metropolitan areas hit hardest by hurricane Sandy. I was very blessed (and slightly cursed, depending on how you look at it) in that the only damage my house suffered was loss of cable/phone/Internet. So until that's back, chapter posts will be sporadic and may come in bunches. **

**This series will continue with Double Vision. Chapter 1's going up today. And if you've gotten this far in the series, then you know that it's your comments that keep me going. So while I catch up on my own commenting, just click on the box below and let me know what you think!**


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